"They're pedigree pigs, d'you have any idea how much the bastards cost?" Don't even ask, he's still ashamed that he could actually recite that after going with his dad to pick them up as a small boy so he'd be out from under his mother's feet for a while at least. Look, this is Asher's home, technically, so he's going to defend it because only he can talk shit about it. "Besides, you're in Ferelden, the official story is that it smells like dog shit on account of us being secretly part mabari."

Somehow his pint makes it to the bar from the annoyed looking barman and well fuck you, no tips for arseholes, welcome to the real world jackass. "Don't be a baby, a little rain never hurt anyone, s'good for you, stops you from getting soft as a Free Marcher. If you want a companion though I'm heading back up as well with a load of supplies, trip home to get some space ended up being a whole...thing." And he shrugs, grinning even though it hurts as he takes a gulp of his drink, still black and blue and bloodied all over.