Andri frowned, her eyes narrowing in the distrust her people were known for, but when he throws his blade aside she had the decency to lower her bow in response. It would do no good for any of them to start a needless conflict, regardless of her lack of trust.
“Tamlen, Nami’in.”
Sheathe your sword.
“But Andri, he’s -”
“Do it now, and go back to camp. I’ll see to it that our friend is escorted out.”
“Ma neuvenin, lethallan. Dar’eth.”
As you wish, friend. Be safe.
A look is exchanged between the two, but the male elvhen complies, sheathing his weapon before leaving her alone with the shemlen. Once her compatriot disappeared fully into the tree line she relaxed slightly, taking brisk steps to where he had thrown his weapon and retrieving it before turning her attention back to this ‘noble’.
“Where are you heading shem?”
“At the end of the day? Back home, provided you restrain yourself from killing me.”
Oh, but what a tale it would be. Almost finding yourself slaughtered by a few Dalish elves, after seeking them out for the most honourable of reasons. It would be a shame, and no doubt his father would commit many a foolish act in grief, Fergus alongside him.
Best he not die, then, to avoid having the Couslands forever remembered as the family that attempted a genocide because of their fool son.
"Honestly, I came to find you elves. I heard you were in the area. I got curious. Is that such a crime, ah–? Whatever your name is.“
