[ A more malicious man might have tried to finish the beast off. It spoke to this one's character that he did not, though there was precious little time to think on it as she quickly fell in step after him.

The brush beat at her boots as they went, and there was only a brief moment of hesitation before she took hold of the offered hand, hauling herself up as much as he might pull, quickly scrambling to her feet once more as soon as she was able. Face flush and certainly looking more like an Avaar tribeswoman at the moment than a Ferelden peasant, she stared back in the direction of the bear as it lumbered away.

Her axe -- might as well be hers, now -- lowered by degrees as she turned back towards Dorian, until it hung harmlessly at her side. If he'd meant her harm he could have accomplished it long before now. ]

Bloody thing nearly had me. I owe you my life, ser mage.

[ A weary noise escaped her as she struggled to brush herself off as best she could. ]

Though I'll admit I'm about three good baths away from feeling completely right with the world again.