"Fenedhis!"
The door had opened suddenly inwards, catching him directly on the chin and throwing the cardboard cup from his grip. Solas stumbled backwards, pressing a hand to his mouth to check for blood. Satisfied that there was no lasting damage, he turned his attention to tepid coffee splashed allover the tile and his pantlegs.
She who had opened the door- another elf- stood staring in horror, her hands clamped over her mouth. Dark green tattoos surrounded her eyes and dipped down the bridge of her nose. Dalish, he wondered briefly, or another one of the young ones who think the vallaslin "look cool"?
"Ir abelas, lethallin!" she said suddenly, and began to dig in her purse. Definitely Dalish then, it was nigh unheard-of for a city-born elf to lapse so quickly into the old tongue. She produced a handful of napkins from the depths of her handbag and knelt to begin sopping up the spilled beverage.
He stooped to aid her, intrigued by the Dalish girl exploding through the doors of the school. She was still hastily apologizing.
"Banal abelas," he said, collecting the bent cardboard cup and stuffing the lid inside. Her head snapped up at the use of her language.
"Dirthan elvhen?" she asked, eyes lighting up and a smile starting across her face.
"Dirthan," he confirmed.
A grin split her face, and she began chattering eagerly in Elvhen. From her rushed, delighted words Solas gathered she had only recently arrived in New Haven, had already gotten hopelessly lost three times that day, would likely never cease apologizing for smashing his face with a door, and had yet to unpack her apartment fully. While she spoke he took the opportunity to look her over, attempting to figure who she was.
Warm copper skin, bright green eyes that tilted up at the corners. Small gold rings lined her ears, larger holes stretched into her lobes, and a tiny stud with a green stone set in it nestled in her nostril. She wore ragged shorts that bordered on the edge of decency, an oversized grey cardigan over a black shirt, scuffed black boots only partly laced. Two delicate necklaces hung around her neck, one long and with a silver bird skull at the end, the other shorter with a simple clear stone.
"Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk your ear off," she finished, her smile turning sheepish as she stood, coffee-soaked napkins in one hand. "It's just... It's been a while, since I met someone who knew the language."
"Don't apologize for that," Solas replied. He held out the empty cup, and she pushed the napkins into it. A handful of rings of assorted sizes decorated her fingers. Lots of jewelry, he noted. "Just be more careful opening doors."
"Of course, I'm sorry again," she said, tucking a lock of dark auburn hair behind her ear. "Is your chin okay?"
"I'll live," he assured her. To old to be a student, he thought, but- probably- too young to be a parent.
"Shit," she hissed suddenly, and pulled a cellphone out of her pocket. "I'm late!"
She darted around him with another hasty apology, and hurried down the hall. Solas half turned to watch her, curious as to what a Dalish elf would be late for in a high school at three o'clock on Friday afternoon. Whatever it was, he could find out on Monday morning. For now, it was the weekend, and at home there was a nap with his name on it.