Taking in the Morning Chill

[Senior Enchanter Rhys]

Taking in the morning chill, Rhys called it. Each morning he'd arrive from his chambers to see what was up in the ruined castle: whether it was mages training or mages arriving, there was usually something he could help with. If nothing else, then there was always training and advice for him to give to others. There yet hadn't been a case when such help had not been needed from him. This very morning, when the sun was beginning to reach its fingers through gaps and holes in the ruined castle's walls, Rhys had in mind to go see the mages training in the courtyard. There was the occasional gust of freezing wind, of course, but most of the time it was still freezing cold outside. He could even see his frosty breath lingering in the air each time he exhaled. It was a fortune that they were mages: any other people would've died in these circumstances. Their magic helped them to make fires and create warmth, to survive even through the iciest winters. But there was still a limit to their power: they couldn't keep away the cold. The Senior Enchanter was pulled away from his reflections by another one of the freezing gusts.

"Maker's breath," he cursed softly, directed at nobody in particular. The autumn was well into its way towards winter, it seemed, and growing strong.

After a few more minutes of grievously cold walking he arrived at the courtyard, where the heat was far greater. There were fires and torches everywhere. His visit had not been expected, so he took his time to see some mages practise their spellcraft. He saw flames and lightning pouring out of the mages' bare hands, sometimes through the tip of a staff, but casting through fingertips - or straight from your palms - required more concentration, thus making its practise crucial. Then someone tapped him lightly to his shoulder.

"Senior Enchanter, pleasant to see you here so early. I expected you later, but this time is as good as any." Rhys saw him to be First Enchanter Trynn from Nevarra.

Rhys turned and gave him a wry smile. "I thought so. Show me to my charges, milord, if it please you," he jested. They had known for a few months only, but acted like old friends.

"It pleases me greatly. You can train the ones you were watching, Senior Enchanter," he said back with a smile. And so he did.

[Inera Felas'nan]

Inera walked through the grasslands, glad to be on solid ground again. She doubted she’d ever be able to prise off the mud caked to her boots after several miserable weeks trudging through the Nahashin Marshes.

Dor’falon bounded around her, equally cheerful now that he was utterly filthy, but free of the marsh itself.

“You are getting a bath later, falon,” Inera said, only for the wolf to snort in displeasure at the warning tone to her voice.

Inera merely sighed and shook her head, resigning herself to a very cold afternoon trying to bathe the wolf in one of the streams crisscrossing the landscape. Maybe she could try coaxing him in to fish.

It would have been preferable to never have entered the Marshes, really. She’d been travelling the Heartlands, on the border with the Dales.

Unfortunately, that had been very close to Verchiel, the city that had sent out the Templars that attacked her clan and took Sulahn’s arm. It had been too for the Templars’ comfort, and upon realising that the few sightings of Inera matched the description of the girl from two years ago, they had dispatched a whole patrol.

Knowing she wouldn’t survive a full patrol without the element of surprise, and even then she would need both Elgar’nan and Mythal on her side, Inera had fled west, through the width of the Heartlands. She’d stuck to the forest for as long as possible; eventually having to run north until the forest petered out. The Templars had still been on her trail, so she’d plunged into the Marshes, hoping they wouldn’t be able to follow her in their heavy armour.

She wasn’t sure if they had, or if she’d simply lost them in the meandering trails between the pools, but after several days in the Marshes, she’d shaken them completely.

After that, she knew it would be wise to avoid the eastern range of Orlais for a while. Lacking any other direction, she’d instead continued north, even after she left the Marshes this morning.

Towards noon, she came across a decent-sized stream, and decided to take the metaphorical plunge and drag Dor’falon with her. They were both filthy, after all.

Cleaning herself was the easy part. The wolf, on the other hand, took two hours, and involved lots of freezing cold water, betrayed howling, and looks that varied between filthy and pitiful, neither of which worked on the stubborn elf.

Immensely glad for her warm furs after the glacial water, Inera had allowed them to break for lunch – laughing when Dor’falon searched futilely for a dirt or mud bath to restore his muck, but was thwarted by the frozen ground. They walked for several hours afterwards, halting for the night hours after the autumn’s early sunset.

It was only after she’d made her campfire and started roasting the brace of conies she’d caught that she saw the lights in the distance.

They were maybe a few hours away; high up. A tall building? Perhaps, but the pinpricks of torchlight were too high even for that... of course, this was near the base of the Blasted Hills; the ground probably rose from the plains soon.

She didn’t recall any towns or cities here... there were ruins though. Perhaps they had been occupied; refugees from one war or another, perhaps? Or maybe even another clan, taking advantage of the broken stone walls as windbreaks?

Either way, perhaps they had things to trade. Or they could be a Templar or army camp, in which case she should steer clear... but she was running low on some supplies...

Well, scout it out tomorrow morning, then decide whether it was safe to approach.

Inera was up before dawn, and had packed up and moved on by first light. It was colder today; there had been few clouds during the night to maintain the scant warmth of the day before. Neither she nor her lupine companion were overly concerned; decked out in fur and accustomed to hard winters as they were.

The grasslands continued all the way to the ruins; no trees to conveniently stay hidden in. Inera frowned unhappily, but continued, moving slowly and carefully as she entered into what she guessed was view of any sentries posted. She was still nearly a quarter of a mile away, but the plains stretched away for miles around her, their uniform colour making it easy to spot anything or anyone out of place.

It was still morning when she saw the people heading towards her. She held her hands up automatically, showing she wasn’t a threat, and told Dor’falon to sit so he wouldn’t scare them either. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see if anything about them identified as ‘Templar’. If it did, she still had a good head start on them if she started running...

[Seraphina Fáelán]

It had only been a week and even still Seraphina was finding it difficult to settling down, with each breath came more cold fog from her deathly pale lips. So far everyone was very friendly, but too talkative for her tastes, just because she was 'one of them' they thought it should have been easier befriend her - she wasn't looking for friends, nor companionship, she didn't want anything from these people. Then again, the more she thought about it, she was unsure of what she wanted, she wished she had died by the hands of those Templars a week ago.

She then heard a squeak along with something brush past her feet as she wandered about the courtyard which was then followed by someone screeching. "Eek! A mouse! A mouse!" this came from a rather squeamish female which merely caused Seraphina to roll her eyes before they then fell upon the tiny creature which was causing all the commotion. It was just a cute little white mouse, most likely scared and savaging for food what it was doing out here and how it was still alive was a mystery to her, yet she still knelt down and held out a piece of bread out for it and thus it scurried over in a heartbeat and began to nibble upon the decent meal.

With a smile, she then scooped it up and used her scarf to keep it warm. "Such a tiny thing..." she mused, sitting down but an unoccupied fire, wondering how people could be so frightened of a mere mouse. Of course, she knew that they could be filled with diseases but this one seemed fairly clean and not to mention, if it had any ill it would've affected her by now due to her low immune system.

It was then suddenly the mouse scurried out of her hand and without a moments hesitation, she got up to to chase after it knowing it'd most likely be killed if it wasn't careful. As she was bent down with her arms reaching out to grab the mouse, Seraphina was unaware of the pair of legs that she soon collided with, causing her to fall forward whilst cupping the tiny mouse in her pale hands.

"Ah!" she groaned, holding her hands to her chest to keep the mouse from escaping again as she stood up but a little shakily, warily opening her eyes in fear of being met with scolding ones "I... I'm so sorry..."

[Senior Enchanter Rhys]

Rhys was holding the hand of a young apprentice, trying to guide his efforts. He moved the boy's hand gently towards a practise dummy, sensing as the energy began to gather inside him.

"Draw upon the source of your energy and then release it firmly. Never let your gaze or concentration waver. There, your only wish in this world is to burn, vaporize or eviscerate that dummy with your choice of spells--"

His hand wavered and he nearly stumbled onwards, but the damage had already been done. The young apprentice wailed and released the energy in shock. It had been a fire spell. Fire as hot as molten lava poured out of his hands and into the ground in front of him, sticking to it like a fly to a wall. Rhys quenched the flames and turned, eyes searching for the person who had nearly caused a fire. Those flames could've burned a man into charcoal under three seconds, he reckoned. He whirled to meet a pale woman. She looked frightfully at him, apparently expecting a scorn or a threat from him. She had strong dark eyelines: it surprised Rhys. He rarely saw someone taking so great care for her make-up, especially when the times were as they were. But he wouldn't spare her the scorn, now.

"Do not look at me like a craven, girl. Don't run around like a bloody fool, either. You don't look like one, although one could judge differently by your make-up. If you're here to train, then be so kind as to join our small group. You look young to me, girl. Who are you, an apostate? Or do you come from a Circle? Pardon me, but you do not quite have the look of a Circle mage about you."

He smiled politely. His anger had always been quick to come and even quicker to leave.

[Inera Felas'nan]

No Templar uniforms that she could see, and... were those mage staffs?

Definitely not Templars then.

When they were in hearing distance, she called out in the Common Tongue, hoping she wouldn’t have to rely on her admittedly shaky Orlesian. Her mother’s attempts to teach her a third language had ended in mutual frustration.

“I mean no harm; I am here to trade. Is that possible?”

As the guards approached, she made out more details. Both men, wearing light armour but no blades that she could see. Instead, both had staffs slung across their backs.

“Holy- is that a wolf?” One of them said, freezing and looking half inclined to go for his staff.

Inera instinctively put a hand down, splayed in front of Dor’falon’s muzzle as if that would protect him. The wolf licked her palm, oblivious.

“Yes, and he is with me. He will do as I say; you are safe as long as neither of us are threatened,” she explained, and the two slowly continued their way forwards, shooting Dor’falon wary looks.

“We get very few travellers out here, Dalish. State your purpose,” the second mage said in a gruff East-Orlesian accent.

Inera frowned, but didn’t object. At least it hadn’t been ‘knife-ear’.

“Restocking supplies if possible, and fleeing a group of Templars, dispatched from Verchiel. I think I lost them in the Marshes, but I cannot be certain,” she said, her tone dipping in worry. Dor’falon whined and slouched to press his side against her leg, looking up at her until she smiled and lowered one hand to rest briefly on his head.

“Templars? You don’t look like a mage...” that was the first one to speak, the shorter of the two, a youth whose voice was considerably more open than his companion’s.

Inera gave them a grim smile.

“No, but my mother and sister are. My clan was attacked, and my sister lost her arm. In retaliation, I took a whole patrol. Ever since, the Templars get very worried whenever someone in the Heartlands spots me, and dispatch a group to hunt me down. Thus far they have failed, but one day that might change. I hope it will not be today,” she said, her mouth twisted in distaste.

She disliked recalling the memories, but she felt that it would be the quickest way to convince the guards that she was as less likely to be a Templar as they were.

The older man was frowning.

“The Heartlands? Verchiel? This was a couple of years ago, but I think... I might have heard of you. One Templar came back, his leg buggered up, and an arm that wasn’t his strapped to his back. Half mad he was, talking about a rain of arrows and some Dalish demon,” he said.

Inera shrugged and smiled.

“No demon, but that was me, yes. The arm was in retaliation for my sister’s,” she said, and the man gave a low whistle.

“You don’t say,” he muttered.

Inera frowned.

“I just did,” she said, puzzled.

The man laughed, shaking his head.

“Nevermind. Figure of speech. I cannot promise you can stay, but we can take you inside, find someone in charge. They’ll know what to do with you and your... friend. This way,” he said, turning back towards the ruins.

The two of them escorted her into a thankfully warmer courtyard, apparently turned into a training ground if the mages spewing fire, frost and lightning from staffs and hands was anything to go by.

“Erm... oh! Senior Enchanter!” The younger guard called to a man with medium-length dark brown hair, who himself was facing an eerie young woman, with the palest skin and hair Inera had ever seen. It was almost the colour of a halla’s fur, she thought.

[Seraphina Fáelán]

Her eyes gazed down upon the quivering mouse in her hands, it was clearly frightened then she softly began stroking its tiny head with her fingertip in hopes to calm it before letting it rest upon her shoulder, its nose tickled her slightly. Her attention was then brought to the man, there was no point crying over spilled milk... well, flames it seemed, though just as he spoke, her attitude changed.

Make-up? What make-up? She wasn't wearing any unless he was so rudely mistaking the dark rings around her eyes from lack of sleep as such. It almost made her want to take back her apology as he began criticizing her appearance. How does one look like a mage? What use would it be to stand out as such when Templars were near? She'd rather look the way she did instead of make it so blatantly obvious. Honestly, she wondered what everyone's problem was... what point was there in judging someone by how they looked? Surely this war was more important than such trivial things.

With her icy gaze focused upon him, she spoke in her usual monotone voice. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am an apostate... Seraphina Fáelán, ser," she said simply, not bothering to respond to his comment about her appearance, but before she continued with her words, her attention was caught by a commotion, her left hand emitting a sudden blue glow before settling at the sight of the 'guest'.

A Dalish? she thought, never before had she actually ever seen one. Still, it was hard to think that they were so special - a dying race as she had been apparently told. Not that it mattered at least. She stood there for a while, staring at the elven women, her eyes almost widening like a small child's at the sight of the wolf yet made sure to keep the mouse from going near. He seemed rather tame at least and less likely to start trouble as his master was near.

Still... what was an elf doing out here?

[Senior Enchanter Charlise]

A cloaked figure walked into the courtyard wielding an Enchanter's Staff which was being used as a support, and only some water vapour coming from under the hood managed to prove that it was alive as silvery grey eyes looked over and around, taking in the scene and looking at all the Mages around it before a pale hand came out from beside the Staff and a sleeve to pull down the hood to reveal a youthful face with eyes full of wisdom and compassion.

Sighing, Charlise allowed a smile to grace her fatigue etched face as she saw many of her kind and her heart began to regain it's spark of hope at the possibility of seeing any of her brothers, sisters or children from her Circle as she looked around before hearing a commotion of a Dalish and then an Apostate which stiffened her spine a little. Whereas a few years ago, she would have questioned an Apostate but now Mages needed every ally they could get, so she stayed back for the Senior Enchanter, whom everyone seemed to report to, to take charge of the situation.

Soon approaching, Charlise spoke to him. "Are you the one who helped to try and bring us all to this place?" She asked, her voice soft and full of wisdom and kindness but with a slight undertone of fatigue which was lined around her eyes and face as her black hair hung slightly limp in a simple plait which was slightly wrapped around her neck for a bit of warmth as she awaited an answer.

[Senior Enchanter Rhys]

Rhys, watching the apostate intently with both of his eyes, sighed audibly. He finally remembered his manners.
"I am sorry for my outburst, child. You scared me, that's all, and I now truly do hope that this hasn't ruined my good mood." An echo of a smile lingered on his lips.

"Well, you are free to go, Seraphina Fáelán," said Rhys, smiling, "or to stay here and practise with us."

Just then a commotion was raised as the guards burst in through the ruined gates and under the archway, escorting a woman with tattoos among them. He turned just in time to witness guard-captain Eric yelling to him. Apart from the tattoos, she was slim of build and rough of features, neck-length strands of straight black hair framing her strong face; she was armed, clad in a suit of boiled leather, with a wolf at her side. She did not seem to be in the best of conditions.

"Fetch her hot wine, guard-captain, and some shelter for the night. But unless she's here to join the defence, she'll have to leave by tomorrow."

Then, turning back to Seraphina, he suddenly hear another voice. He gave a start and turned towards its source.

"Well, not quite, Senior Enchanter," he said, searching for the right words, "but I did help, for sure. But who are you?"

I've never had this much traffic running through me. Not even when the apprentices were here in larger numbers.

[Inera Felas'nan]

A few stray mages, hiding from the Templars wasn’t too much of a surprise. But to find a whole company – maybe even an army – holed up in some ancient but sturdy ruins?

Inera nodded to herself. She may not be particularly up to date on current affairs outside of her own life, but even she had heard of the Mages splitting from the Chantry.

They were like any other people, however. She caught several stares directed at her and Dor’falon as they walked in, including the young white-blonde mage standing with her superior. Inera returned it calmly, used to the attention, if not entirely comfortable with it still. She found herself gripping Dor’falon’s scruff and running her fingers through the thick winter fur for comfort before finally looking back to her escort.

“So you are the mage rebellion?” She asked the older guard while the younger addressed the Enchanter.

He nodded, shrugging.

“Such as we are. Surprised?” He asked.

Inera nodded.

“To find you at all, yes. But to find you here? Not so much. It is a good defensive position,” she said, opening her mouth to say more only to stop herself when the Senior Enchanter’s voice rose.

So the young guard was the captain? Odd practice, Inera thought, but when the two of them went to lead her indoors, she dug her heels in.

“I do not know if the guard-captain told you, but it was the Templars that chased me here. I do not know for certain if I lost them or not in the Marshes. I apologise, but I might have led them to your door, Senior Enchanter,” she called, raising her voice so it would be heard over the general hubbub of the courtyard.

“If that is the case, I will stay and help you repel them, if you wish,” she promised. She would hate to be the person that brought the Templars’ wrath crashing down on the unsuspecting, especially after surviving one of their ambushes herself.

If she had, the least she could do was warn them, and correct her mistake by helping to eliminate the threat the Templars posed.

[Seraphina Fáelán]

Standing there awkwardly, Seraphina wasn't sure what to make of the situation, she wasn't much of a talker and neither did she like to be around large groups. Though just as she was about to leave, the elf's words caught her attention, while cupping her little mouse friend in her hands, she addressed her.

"To... repel them?" she repeated in a soft yet innocent tone while tilting her head to the side questionably "you are quick to offer..." She looked the woman up and down, she held no staff, but other weapons instead... it seemed rather shifty to her, but she supposed she'd have to let her superiors decide what to do with her.

Her icy blue gaze then fell onto the wolf at her side, a very light smile forming - a magnificent animal, indeed. He seemed loyal, strong... she knew the nature of wolves and such other creatures, he must have been tamed... or perhaps it was this woman's elvish ways that had won it over? Still, Seraphina was not sure what else to say, it wasn't that she was shy, just rarely spoke... she'd have to wait and see what happens.

[Senior Enchanter Charlise]

Charlise smiled as she saw the Senior Enchanter jump a little at the sound of her voice, "My apologies if I startled you, Senior Enchanter..... But fret not, I am a friendly face..." She stated before she introduced herself, "I am Senior Enchanter Charlise.... Formerly of the Kinloch Hold Circle of Magi in Ferelden.... Though my rank rings somewhat hollow without my Apprentices...... But there it is, I at least hope that some of my fellows managed to arrive here." She stated.

She then turned to the Dalish woman and gave a small smile of assurance, "Well.... If they weren't following you, then no doubt they spotted me... But I believe we may have at least a couple of days till they attack.... But your offer is most welcome, my dear.... I know from first hand experience that the honourable Dalish are very skilled." She replied to her statement as she looked at Rhys for his opinion.

Her eyes slightly caught Seraphina and smiled; recalling how, at one point before the Blight, she herself was as innocent and shy as Seraphina. But of course, that all changed within a blink of an eye as she fought for her life twice in one year. Shaking the many memories away, Charlise swung her Enchanter's Staff onto her back so that her hands were free before she tossed her plait back.

[Senior Enchanter Rhys]

Rhys, caught between three inquiring women, felt quite like a lamb in a bear's lair, for a fleeting moment; then it drifted off, leaving him only the cold wind and the commotion all around him. He felt a need to calm things down.

"Let's not be so hasty." Rhys said, gravely. She was in his hands, now, and he would not have her running off to kill templars. Whatever her capabilities may be.

"There is your and your pet's safety that I am responsible of, as you have so kindly delivered yourself here, and I say that you spend the night here and be off on the morrow. If the templars come - a hunting party, a company of them, it does not matter - they will be spotted and put to the sword... or rather, to the elements. No-body will bother you this day, I promise you."

Rhys gave her a brief smile, but it was rather lame. He wasn't himself today, not at all. Perhaps it was the cold affecting him, freezing his heart and his manners, and worst of all, his wits. He turned to greet the Senior Enchanter beside him, smiling and giving her a small bow with his staff. It sparkled a blue light against the thin veil of snow below.

"Senior Enchanter Charlise, it is an honor to have you here. Be welcome to our stronghold. Here you will be treated kindly, fed with what we have available, and in the end, called to arms against the templars."

He said the words so dully, bearing such a bored smile on his lips, that one could've thought it was just a litany he had learned inside out. A litany to welcome strangers.

"But I hope that you will enjoy your stay, as much and as long as you can. The same applies to you... Dalish? Excuse me for a moment." He turned to the young guard-captain. His tone was cold and surprised, almost if he had just thought of the obvious question. "Does the Dalish have a name?"

"I... I never asked," the youngster confessed.

"Be sure to remember that in the future, then. I'm not in the mood to lecture you, nor am I the sort of person to send you away to be lectured by someone else, but do remember this in the future. I might even find it worth the time to lecture you, if such things will continue to happen."

Then, turning again towards the Dalish woman, he asked her a simple question. His tone had never been anything short of polite, but now it had a certain edge to it.

"Might we know your name first? We assumed that it is the visitor's duty to introduce herself, but perhaps it is not so among the Dalish. In any case, we would hear it from you."

[Inera Felas'nan]

Suspicion was a good trait to have, especially in a mage in these conditions. Inera couldn’t blame the white-haired mage for her soft statement, almost a question really, and inclined her head in response.

“Mages are not the only people with a cause to hate the Templars. My people are sometimes hunted as much as you are, purely because some of our family are gifted with magic,” she explained, trying to keep the personal anger out of her voice. She wasn’t sure she succeeded, as Dor’falon whined and leaned against her leg again, looking up at her and licking his nose in concern.

She idly scratched between his ears as the new woman – another Senior Enchanter, if what she said was true – smiled at her and spoke.

Reassurances and flattery aside, Inera had to wonder why the mages seemed so unconcerned by being seen by the enemy. Even just a small group, like the one pursuing her, would be enough to raise the alarm, report back and return with an army capable of wiping out the mages stationed here.

She couldn’t understand how they could be so blasé. Even if the Templars didn’t attack, shouldn’t they send scouts out to eliminate them; to ensure no word reached the main group? Their disappearances wouldn’t even be questioned; they would have been lost whilst tracking an elf known for killing a whole group of Templars single-handedly. All blame would have been put on her shoulders; and what did a few more lives matter when tallied with the ones already attributed to her?

What’s more, the two Enchanters seemed at odds as to whether she should stay and fight or not. To turn her away out of suspicion was one thing, but out of some pointless and – if his tone was anything to go by, false, concern for her life...

It did seem rather foolish to her. The mages weren’t exactly on an equal footing with the Templars, surely they could use every willing fighter they had? Inera would always be a hunted woman anyway; she may as well face the Templars here as anywhere.

Things were different for the new Senior Enchanter. Apparently you were quite welcome to fight and lay down your life for what you believed in – only as long as you wielded magic, of course. Was the fool under some impression that only mages could fight for a mage’s cause?

Still, she wouldn’t force her assistance if it was unwanted. Hopefully – she prayed the mages had a better strategist than the man before her – the rebellion would have a battle plan should the Templars attack, and she didn’t want to run the risk of jeopardising that just because she thought one human man was an idiot to turn her away.

He further irritated her with the way he, rather than simply ask her outright, interrogated his guard on whether ‘the Dalish’ had a name. He then proceeded to, despite what he said, lecture the man, before turning to her and demanding her name. Oh, he may have phrased it as a question first, but his intent was clear from the start.

Inera felt her gaze cooling as she met his, and Dor’falon shifted beside her in response to the change in her mood. She could feel the skin on his scruff rippling, as though unsure whether he should bristle or not.

She stroked a finger down from the crown of his head to his neck, soothing him silently into stillness. He remained unthreatening, but Inera could see from the tilt of his ears and the motionless body that he was uncertain and ready to leap to her defence if necessary.

“I am standing right here, Enchanter. There was no need to consult your guard when I could have answered you immediately. I hope for your people’s sake that you won’t disregard your enemy so easily. As for why I did not share it already, I was first being chased, then interrogated to ensure I was not a threat. There was not much opportunity – nor necessity – to introduce myself until now,” she said, keeping her voice level but cold.

She turned her head deliberately from him, instead looking at each of the guards and female mages in turn. She would happily introduce herself to these people.

“My name is Inera, and this is Dor’falon. My friend; not a pet,” she added, scratching between his ears again as the wolf looked up at her at the sound of his name, his skull hitting her hip and almost knocking her off-balance.

It may have been rude. It may have reinforced the impression of Dalish arrogance. It may get her thrown out immediately, without supplies or rest, but Inera couldn’t bring herself to care too much about the bruised pride of one man. She had certainly survived worse.

[Seraphina Fáelán]

Seraphina felt rather awkward being in the presence of so many, perhaps that was something for her to overcome in the future. But for now, she decided to remain quiet - naturally.

Kneeling down, she came to eye level with the Dalish Elf's--Inera's furry friend. There was almost a childishness to her as she remained there and watched his movements, from every flick of the the ear to every tilt of the head. Animals were so much more easier to talk to than humans, many less selfish and complicated also. She had no doubts that he could lunge at her, but she made it clear through expression of body language that she was no threat to him. Wolves acted in such mysterious ways, and this one seemed so loyal and intent to protect the Dalish Elf, how lucky she was to have such a good friend by her side.

It appeared as if the ice around her heart melted as she became warm-hearted once more, all this due to such a beautiful creature. She wondered if either of them were hungry, what would the wolf eat? Dog biscuits weren't the best option. She was one of many that helped gather food, so perhaps she could skin a rabbit or two, she'd have to see.

Her training had been completed for the day before she decided to come outside, so... maybe she could assist? It seemed odd given her appearance and how secluded she was around others, but her heart was in the right place... most of the time. She stood up and bowed her head to Senior Enchanter Rhys. "I could assist in giving miss Inera and her friend a place to rest, I don't mind sparing a blanket or two..." she spoke more softly this time, though still in monotone. She was a mage that specialized in Ice spells, a little cold wouldn't affect her much.

Coming to her defense due to her reply, she said. "I'm sure she's very fatigued from her travels, and given the circumstances, I'm sure most would feel rather cranky due to this weather." Surely Mages were to set an example, to show they could act humanely and kindly, not have even more enemies than they did already. A very feint smile curved her lips, so barely that you'd have to look close enough to see it was there, but it was aimed at the Elven woman.

[Senior Enchanter Rhys]

"Apologies. The cold has frozen my wits, my tongue and my muscles. I speak nonsense." He looked at Inera, apologetically, wondering what had made him act with such arrogance. It wasn't like him.

"I am Senior Enchanter Rhys. If you wish to help, you are free to walk the walls and do other duties our guardsmen conduct. A giant wolf doesn't hurt us either, I should say. If you choose to join our guards, we'll also make sure to feed you properly. Clothe you, if you so require." He looked at her clothes, somewhat rugged from the journey. "I mean furs, gloves, armour... to keep you well protected against anything you could face here. Steel and snow, mostly." Rhys paused to rub his cheeks. They had grown red from the cold. "Excuse me." He muttered a word, and the redness faded away. He almost cackled from the heat, but somehow managed to keep it inside. "And if the templars come here," he managed, "you'll be on your guard, aye? If you accept, that is."

When Seraphina made her offer, Rhys found himself smiling. It was a good idea to let the newcomer get familiar with a mage.

"I agree. It would do well. With this cold, we need each other to keep us warm, day and night."