[ Dorian is clearly expecting her to take the former option over the latter, because for all that he has gamely thrown himself into saving a stranger's life -- when in the Inquisition, and all -- bears aren't fun. This one is yellow toothed, has a putrid breath, and scraggled thatches of hair that imply scarring beneath its dense coat.
But then there's an axe, and his eyebrows raise. ]
That's the spirit, [ comes out more flatly ironic than anything else, but there's a certain twinkle to his eye in swift sizing her up that implies he is more than somewhat delighted by her conceptually.
By the time the bear is turning its snout to follow the swing of the axe, Dorian swings his staff and very unmagically clouts the brute over the head with it, springing aside from a confused swipe that could probably have broken his neck without effort. Conserving his energy, somewhat, but determined not to let it hone its attention on the woman.
It does, anyway, opening a maw that could swallow her head, spittle flying.
A more precise jab channels a thicker stream of electricity for the bear's back leg, searing and crackling, tongues of flame withering fur. This time, the bear's bellow is one of pain over ferocity. You'd almost feel bad for it, if there weren't so bloody many of them. ]
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But then there's an axe, and his eyebrows raise. ]
That's the spirit, [ comes out more flatly ironic than anything else, but there's a certain twinkle to his eye in swift sizing her up that implies he is more than somewhat delighted by her conceptually.
By the time the bear is turning its snout to follow the swing of the axe, Dorian swings his staff and very unmagically clouts the brute over the head with it, springing aside from a confused swipe that could probably have broken his neck without effort. Conserving his energy, somewhat, but determined not to let it hone its attention on the woman.
It does, anyway, opening a maw that could swallow her head, spittle flying.
A more precise jab channels a thicker stream of electricity for the bear's back leg, searing and crackling, tongues of flame withering fur. This time, the bear's bellow is one of pain over ferocity. You'd almost feel bad for it, if there weren't so bloody many of them. ]