"We're different."

Matthew slowed his already leisurely pace, brought on by the mundane yet peaceful landscape of the Hinterlands, to glance down at Cole. Compassion stilled at his side, so close that the rim of his hat brushed his shoulder, the worn wool of his gloves itching into Matthew's palm with the tightening of his fingers. Cole hadn't let go, even after the veil smoothed again and what was real was revealed to him. He clutched Matthew's hand, still needing to be grounded, though Matthew hardly minded, musing on Compassion anchoring his mark-free hand, wishing to be anchored. It felt much better than the other hand.

Behind them, Solas fell back, content with his distance beneath the cool shade of a scattering of trees, observing them with calm and contagious curiosity. It stirred Matthew's attention back to Cole.

"Are we different?" Cole's statement became a question, along with his confusion flipping in on itself. Like a mirror reflection ricocheted onto another's. The feelings bounced back and forth and in and it takes him longer to reply.

This is all brought on by a mild ripple in the veil. He knew what it was before Solas even explained to an overwhelmed Cole, who had looked suffocated in his own skin, sight shifting between the disturbed layers, on unrealities trying to uniform. He was, more or less, used to the currents of the veil, though the rifts did provide more problems. Still, all he suffered was broken breathes, a passing moment of remembrance, reflections already passed pressing reality into his bones. But he knew he wasn't a child, that child whose mother cried the Chant and begged for the Maker's mercy as he choked for life, and knew he was him all the same.

The moment is only that, he adapted and was fine after a deep exhale. He's used to it. Cole isn't. So he took his hand without question, told Cole to hold firm and focus. 'Breath. Be here. Be you.' The tactic is different to the other spirit, askance adding to acceptance and, after gentle gratitude, leading to their current conversation.

Matthew pursed his lips, a habit mimicked and not made, to mock contemplation.

"Yes. No." It's not indecision, its...

"Both." Cole finished, looking down from too bright green eyes. "You forgive them. See the hurt and hatred, banging, burning, bruising...but you don't shake the pearl loose."

"Some things make people more. Pearls come at a price but are pretty-if worn right. I try to..." Matthew waved a vague hand, swinging the other still in Cole's grasp. "Make it manageable. Mistakes make marks, but also add more."

"You help." The hand tightened.

"I try."

Cole considered that in silence and Matthew's brows pinched.

"You do the same." He reassured.

"But I don't always do it right."

Matthew smiled. "Not every one looks good in pearls." Cole huffed softly, almost catching the chuckling in his throat, though Matthew isn't sure if he's just picking up on his own amusement. "You shake them loose and fix the fabric. Pinching with the right pressure and pin. It takes a few times and you prick your fingers, practice makes perfect."

"You help." Matthew said, the seriousness of his statement setting off understanding.

"Yes and no." Cole repeated. "I don't really like pearls."

"They are rather plain." Matthew picked up their previous pace, with a small smile to Solas as he caught up to them.

"All is well, I hope?" Both answered the elf with a 'yes', the cheerier note from a still smiling Matthew. Cole squeezed his hand in response or reflex, emotion arching up his arm. It prompted him to look down.

Before he could ask or pick up on his thread of thought: "Mercy and compassion...Matthew and Cole."

Solas' amused hum was warm. Focusing again on them, elvhen artifacts momentary forgotten, he chimed in with: "Rather fitting and ironic, all things considered."

Cole actually chuckled that time, titling his head to level an almost endearing look to Matthew, the prolonged eye contact speaking volumes.

"I like holding your hand."

"Would you like to do it more often? Even when you don't need it?"

Cole blinked. "I...think I want to need it."

The smile he gave him already ensured Matthew's instant compliance, and with a light laugh he threaded their fingers together.

"As you wish."