No warnings, I think.
When Fenris left Kirkwall with Hawke, he hadn't expected to end up with another mage (the former First Enchanter no less) and an Antivan elf tagging along. He certainly hadn't expected having to share a tent with the Antivan. Yet here he was. He would follow Hawke to the ends of Thedas, it seemed.
The Antivan spent his time practicing his craft, working on elaborate traps and poisons or throwing his daggers into an unsuspecting tree, hitting his mark every time. When no one was watching him, he often lost the smile he had appeared to come with.
"Why are you here?"
He didn't know what would be the right time to interrupt the Antivan's continuous system of prattling, working, and training, so he chose training. It meant also getting a dagger in the face, but he wouldn't want to interrupt Hawke, who the Antivan talked to most often. He also talked to the First Enchanter a lot, and Fenris did not want to get near the man.
"Why do you ask?" said the smaller elf, winking at him with sickening audacity.
"You had no reason to come," he replied, crossing his arms. "And you serve no purpose here."
The Antivan laughed. "I like to have adventures, and this seemed like the place to be."
"That is the only reason?"
The Antivan shrugged and ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. Fenris had to admit, the tattoos were not unappealing. That is all he would admit, however.
"It is the only one I can think of."
"You make it sound so easy," he said.
Zevran laughed quietly. "Leaving your home is never easy, and mine is with my Warden. We always have each other though, and that is what matters."
"Ah," said Fenris, who sort of felt like that with Hawke, although he did not love her the same way. "Thank you for telling me."
"You're a good man," said Zevran, twirling one of his daggers in his fingers. "Sometimes I think you forget."
"You make no sense," said Fenris, grumbling.
"One of my many skills," said Zevran, smiling.