[ The surprise finally wearing off, and maybe she finds somewhere to sit down, crossed legged, in tall pale yellow grass that snaps beneath her fingers as she fidgets with it. ]
I am in the Anderfels now, but when we're done with our task, it will be a quick journey back. Through the mirrors. So it will be soon, I think.
[ The obvious questions rise. How is she. Why has she come to Riftwatch. They'll come. For now, instead; ]
( So much time has passed. Between Sabine’s stealth-demanding projects and ever-transient efforts, Herian’s self imposed exile to Skyhold, long stretches had passed. How much could be assumed forgivable between old friends?
Aye, Cóiméad. I journeyed to Salzklippe, and then begged a templar to render me Tranquil.
Some aches remain and some new appear, and Herian has never been gifted with the wit needed to navigate such revelations well. )
I have. I hope you’re spared any sandstorms. Kirkwall does not deserve your ire as you wrestle sand from your hair for weeks.
[ A quick laugh, dry, familiar, casually unfamiliar with the paths Herian's mind journeys down. ]
The eluvian we came through is at the bottom of a lake. I am still picking my tangles free.
[ A sand storm would be—inexcusable, frankly. ]
We are some days outside of Hossberg. There are plains like this in Orlais, where you can see everything, but the air here is different, like there is always a fire somewhere.
[ Hard to say how exactly. These are Blight-touched lands. To remember that makes her skin prickle. ]
You missed the blizzarding in Kirkwall. Now it is miserable with the aftermath. When did you come in?
[ These are true things, but also: sunrises Sabine has never seen before, and a particular dry heat that seems to make the sun more bearable than she's used to.
Not very bearable, just more. ]
Establishing the eluvian somewhere better than a lake. Inside Hossberg, hidden.
[ Access. But the answer is given quickly, almost dismissive, as she asks, ] And what takes you to the infirmary?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ The surprise finally wearing off, and maybe she finds somewhere to sit down, crossed legged, in tall pale yellow grass that snaps beneath her fingers as she fidgets with it. ]
I am in the Anderfels now, but when we're done with our task, it will be a quick journey back. Through the mirrors. So it will be soon, I think.
[ The obvious questions rise. How is she. Why has she come to Riftwatch. They'll come. For now, instead; ]
Have you been this far north before?
cw ref past suicidal ideation / Tranquility
Aye, Cóiméad. I journeyed to Salzklippe, and then begged a templar to render me Tranquil.
Some aches remain and some new appear, and Herian has never been gifted with the wit needed to navigate such revelations well. )
I have. I hope you’re spared any sandstorms. Kirkwall does not deserve your ire as you wrestle sand from your hair for weeks.
no subject
The eluvian we came through is at the bottom of a lake. I am still picking my tangles free.
[ A sand storm would be—inexcusable, frankly. ]
We are some days outside of Hossberg. There are plains like this in Orlais, where you can see everything, but the air here is different, like there is always a fire somewhere.
[ Hard to say how exactly. These are Blight-touched lands. To remember that makes her skin prickle. ]
You missed the blizzarding in Kirkwall. Now it is miserable with the aftermath. When did you come in?
no subject
( The tug of war between low spirits overall and genuine delight at speaking with Sabine after so long is complex. )
Two days past, I think. Time becomes ill-defined when kept to the Infirmary.
( Her sigh is... tired? Frustrated? Bored? )
I remember it tasting like bad eggs, at times, in those wastes. And grit between your teeth, even when your mouth is covered over.
( Her tone is pensive, moreso than the quiet scorn that might be anticipated in their banter. )
What takes your there?
no subject
Not very bearable, just more. ]
Establishing the eluvian somewhere better than a lake. Inside Hossberg, hidden.
[ Access. But the answer is given quickly, almost dismissive, as she asks, ] And what takes you to the infirmary?