"You," the mysterious elven apostate had the expression of an elder scolding a child, "are reckless." Avisari laughed a bit, "it's only reckless if you don't know what you're doing, Solas."

The battle at the Breach had gone well, all things considered. Though the Breach had not been sealed, it had stopped growing, and no more demons were hurled from its eye. Gaelathen was unconscious, but alive, and would recover. Cassandra was in the process of forming a new organization to fight the Breach and whatever created it. Solas and Varric had decided to stay, despite the dangers, as had Avisari. Not that she would have left Gaelathen behind anyway.

Avisari sat on a table, pants off, allowing Solas to examine a rather peculiar injury. She had been limping heavily for several days, and he had finally talked her into letting him examine it. She hadn't gone to the healers because there were others far worse off than herself, but his primary focus was finding a way to close the Breach, and he had a little time to spare while Gaelathen still slept.

Her injury? She had stepped in the way of the pride demon's lightning whip, and it had wrapped around her leg, been yanked, and sent her flying.

"And how exactly did you mean for something like this to happen? You were a formidable force against the pride demon. Why would you let it best you in such a way, if it was not a misstep?" Solas raised an eyebrow, going over to another table, examining two bottles of poultice, trying to determine which would be best for the wound. Avisari crossed her arms, silently mocking him by making faces. She quickly wiped it away when he turned back to face her.

"Had I not, it would have decapitated the dwarf. I have little doubts that my leg is sturdier than his neck."

Solas picked a bottle, pouring a little bit of an oily substance on his hand. "Very well. It was, however, rather foolish of you to wait this long to get it looked at. You've got the beginnings of infection. This is going to sting." Avisari opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again and hissed when he started rubbing the oil on her leg. She gripped the table, leaning her head back. "Shit," she grunted, grinding her teeth. "You weren't kidding."

She relaxed a little when he finished and began using a little healing magic. She let out a few short breaths, releasing the tension from her core. She relaxed her shoulders, lifting her leg so he could wrap a bandage around it. "Thank you, Solas," she said when he completed his task. "Lasa halani,"* he replied, wiping his hands off on a cloth. "Be sure to wrap it in clean bandages at least once a day, more than that if you do any heavy labor." Avisari gave a cheeky grin, "but then I wouldn't have an excuse to come enjoy your presence." She could have sworn he almost rolled his eyes as he ignored her.

She stood, wincing as she pulled her pants back on. She was very careful not to mess up the bandage as she did so. She let out a sigh of relief once she had them all the way on, not looking forward to the rest of the day. They were running short on food, so she was going out hunting. It was mostly just checking traps, but it would be quite the trek over the mountain in the deep snow.

"May I ask you something?" Solas caught her attention as she pulled on her boots gingerly. She looked up from where she was kneeling on the ground. "Be my guest, though I can't promise I have an answer for you." Solas leaned against one of the supporting pillars of his cabin, gazing down at her with a puzzled expression. "You are not Dalish, are you?"

Avisari snorted, "you got me, I'm a fucking giant." Solas's mouth twitched into a frown. She laughed softly, "I'm sorry, you're clearly in no mood for jokes. I was not born Dalish, if that is what you meant to ask, but I am as Dalish as any of the others now. The circumstances of our birth do not matter." Solas thought on this answer for a moment. "Why do you ask?" Avisari tilted her head, sitting against the wall with one boot on.

"You do not act quite like your kin." Avisari rolled her eyes at that. "So I have my own personality. Why does that mean I'm not Dalish?" Solas smiled slightly, "that isn't what I meant. I apologize for any offense." Avisari waved her hand dismissively, "I know you didn't mean it. I get that a lot."

Solas continued to speak. "I did not mean your personality, though you are certainly more… open than most of your kin." "They're your kin too." That earned a scowl. Avisari raised an eyebrow. "What? You're an elf, we're elves, what's the difference? City elf, Dalish elf, wandering apostate who prefers the fade, we're all elves, aren't we?" Solas sighed softly, "it is not quite so simple, but that is not the subject at hand. As I was saying, you do not move in the same manner as the Dalish. You do not share their mannerisms, or their views towards other races. Aside from your personality, you do not even speak the same way, and you do not seem to know what little elvish the Dalish do remember."

It was Avisari's turn to scowl. "I'm doing my best. Most of the Dalish learn elvish phrases as children. I just kind of had to pick up what I could. It's not easy." Solas nodded, "I'd imagine so. I am not criticizing, merely pointing out an observation. Where are you from?"

Avisari pulled on her other boot. "That's not really any of your business." Solas blinked a few times, stunned. "Avisari, if I have offended-" "No," she cut him off, "despite your best efforts, I'm really not offended. Maybe a little peeved, but you can't help it. I just don't know you well enough to tell you that. Maybe another time." Solas seemed to understand. "Very well." He held open the door for her with a polite smile. She felt her heart skip. "Dareth shiral, da'len."*

Avisari cursed quietly to herself as she made her way through Haven, stopping by her tent to grab an extra coat. The wind was particularly harsh that day, but her face felt awfully hot. She'd never had a problem with attractive men before, why now? She shook her head to clear it. Certainly not Mr. High-and-Mighty too-good-for-thou with his egg head. Right?

Damn it.

She wrapped a belt around her waist with a dagger attached, and strapped a bow to her back. Hopefully, she wouldn't need either, but better safe than sorry. She headed out into the cold, breaking from the trail to trudge through the knee-deep snow. "This had better be worth it," she grumbled as she approached the first trap.

It was well after dark when Avisari returned, laden with several wild nug and even a ram. It was all way too heavy for her to be dragging by herself, and it had earned her a heavy limp and, she suspected, bloody trousers. She wore several layers, so she couldn't be sure yet. She dropped the game by the fire just through the gates, too tired to bother hauling it up to the quartermaster herself. Varric gave her a sympathetic look. "Thanks firecracker." "Yeah," she raised a hand in acknowledgement and trudged to her tent.

She had just reached it when a familiar voice brought life back into her eyes. "You look like death warmed over." She whirled around, "Gaelathen! You're awake!" She embraced him, delighted to see him standing. "I was so worried." "I know. I'm alright." He smiled warmly at her. "Hey, they gave me a cabin to myself. Why don't you sleep somewhere warmer than this tent?" Avisari laughed slightly, "that would set tongues wagging. Do you know what they're calling you?" "Herald of Andraste, yeah, I know." His expression was conflicted. "They're starting up an Inquisition. I'm going to help. From what I hear, you already have been. Oh, Solas asked me to remind you to change the bandages around your leg."

Avisari grimaced. "Yeah, about that…" Judging from the wetness making her trousers stick to her, her leg was definitely bloody. "I'm gonna need some elfroot poultice." Gaelathen gave her a sympathetic look. "I've got some. Come on, I won't have you sleeping in the cold tonight. I'll risk the gossip."

They made their way to Gaelathen's cabin. Avisari's limp was heavy. Her leg was practically raw after the rough reckoning she had been doing all day. She pulled off her layers, happy to have the heat of the fireplace nearby, and carefully peeled off the reddened bandages from her leg. Fortunately, the infection had receeded.

She took the poultice from Gaelathen and gingerly spread it over her leg, allowing the wound to have a few moments of air before wrapping it in clean bandages. "You're in no state to continue hunting," Gaelathen wiped a bit of dirt from her face with a damp cloth. She frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. "Soldiers need to eat, Gaelathen." He handed her the cloth. "I'll do it. We'll be here for a few weeks while the Inquisition gathers forces for our movements into the Hinterlands anyway. That should give you time to heal up." She wiped the sweat and grime from her face and neck. "You'd let me sit around all day and do nothing? I'll go mad."

"You're already mad," he teased her. She stuck her tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes playfully, "be careful, leave your tongue out and Fen'Harel might come to bite it off." Avisari laughed, "you're the one who's mad."

Gaelathen sat down in a chair by the fire, growing solemn. "We've gotten ourselves into quite the mess, haven't we, lethalan?" Avisari stood, hobbling over to him and putting her hand on his shoulder. "Nothing we can't handle. Don't worry. I'm right here with you." He smiled up at her. "You know what they say. May the Dread Wolf never catch our scent."

*pleased to help

*safe travels, young one