Haven was still sleepy when she arrived, breath puffing out from under her hood in the frozen mountain air. She moved quietly, save the snow crunching as she trudged towards the small hamlet that made up the Inquisitions camp. She was late of course, but when asked she would comment on not being able to slip away earlier, and claim to need work that had fewer hands on her ass.
She managed to finally get close enough to smell the scent of eggs cooking as well as smoked fish, probably from the lake she had circled as she was not sure how safe the ice would be under her weight. Someone was up apparently, and that would make her arrival known, something she was not sure she was comfortable with, even now.
She reached out a leather gloved hand and pulled the fur collar of her cloak closer to her face to stop the snow as she peered up at the gates she now reached. To her right was a small tent, with a bag near the opening as well as the remnants of some kind of silk...
Dammit Big guy, can you -not- fuck everything that moves? Shit.
"Hello, is there something I can help you with?"
She turned her head to the source of the voice so close to her, hand moving quickly to the hilt of the hidden blades tucked under her cloak. She shifted quickly as a cat would, the training and experience of her life showing even in the way she breathed as she sized up the man standing before her.
"Apologies, I didn't mean to startle you..." his voice sounded again, fading near the end as he noticed the way she had moved and how she had reached for something under her cloak. His own hand moved to the hilt of his own blade, a longsword that sat at his hip. "Who are you and what business have you here?" he said, command and a flash of anger in his voice.
She stepped back, her legs bending as instinct seemed to take over. She lowered herself so she could get traction on the snow covered ground, hand still on her blade.
"Assassin!" He roared pulling his sword free.
"DANCER!" another voice roared from the once silent tent now behind her.
The voice stopped the armored man in his tracks, though she moved another step back just incase he would attack, and stepped into something solid.
"I see you are just making friends, Dancer. Cullen, She is one of mine. Late from some other work, but here." She felt a huge meaty hand on her shoulder, holding her still. "Say hello to the nice Commander, Dancer. He won't bite."
She finally raised herself into a proper stance and bowed her head in greeting. "Hello." After a silent pause, and the huge meaty tightened against her cloak.
"Oh, I -"
He stopped talking when he could see her face. She was tanned, golden like Josephine, but her face was less soft, the face of a warrior. Antivan if he were to make a wager, though her voice all but proved it.
"Apologies, Commander." She said with a soft velvet voice before bowing her hooded head again and turning her gaze to look up and over her shoulder towards Bull. "Chargers?" she asked quietly, her exhaustion starting to creep into her voice.
Bull grunted, pointing over his shoulder. "Over there."
Without another word, she moved to find the others and perhaps maybe get some sleep. Bull watched her move, his single eye noting how she moved, and what ached where. He would get her report later, there was no point asking for it now. Her need for sleep was clouding her judgement and she needed to rest before she did gut someone for simply talking to her.
"Who was...Dancer?" Cullen asked curiously, his eyes following the Charger as well.
"Dancer is...well, lets say she has a story that she should tell you sometime. Perhaps over drinks."
Cullen's eyes snapped back to Bull. It was truly the first time he had seen the towering man that day, and he stood in the snow wearing nothing but a cloth wrapped around him. With effort, the former Templar forced himself to look Bull in the eye, and keep from looking back to find out how far the woman nicknamed 'Dancer' had gotten."What are you? What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, Cullen, nothing at all." the Qunari mercenary said with a chuckle before wandering back over to his tent.
As Bull slipped inside the tent, Cullen blinked, then shook his head. He had heard a soft moan, followed by another deeper one. Just how many people fit in that tent?