That's the only throughline she needed. Calpernia would prefer to avoid trying to walk to Kirkwall without any aid, and submit herself to Riftwatch's judgement like a peasant. She nods, curt, and turns toward the treeline of a forest over a sloped hill. "How fortunate," Calpernia says. "The rift is that way. There's a ridge I can conduct myself on, if you can keep yourself out of imminent danger while I climb it."

One may reach the conclusion that condescension has been baked into her over the course of years. One may also just shrug and decide she's just a bitch. Both are, invariably, true.