Finishing his letter, Duncan puts the quill back in the ink pot and leans back. He rubs his tired eyes. For majority of the morning, Loghain had him writing out reports on the Wardens for his next meeting with the King. He was hardly surprised when Cailan sent a messenger mid-way through to have him come dine with him but, regardless of him being a king, Duncan had no desire to spend the next couple precious hours discussing fairy stories and famed battles. He believed that his time would be much better spent ensuring his charges were fully equiped with armor and weapons or overseeing the training for the upcoming battle.

He sighs as he slumps back in his chair and runs a hand over his face. For a moment, his tired mind could conjure nothing more than Ana's distraught face as she watched the gates closed behind her lover. He frowns.

Rising from his seat, his back and joints crack making him wince; Not from pain but rather the reminder of his age. Striding over to the entrance flaps, he pulls them aside and squints at the brightness that meets him. The two guards on either side suddenly straightened as their eyes widened in alarm as the sight of Duncan snaps them awake. They wait as Duncan inhales deeply as his dark eyes move over the scene before him before he sighs. He turns to the young man to his right.

"Has Ana come by in the past few hours?" He asks. The lads exchange a glance before the right one shakes his head.

"No, Sir. We haven't seen her since she left the tent early this morning."

Duncan frowns at this news but he tries not to allow the worry to show on his face, just in case. Perhaps she's still in the chantry . He tells himself. With a brisk nod, he brushes past them and starts off toward the chantry tent.

Carver walks beside his older brother with disdainful look as he hugs the bundle of firewood they collected after their patrol. Nate strides proudly, his leather armor stained with the blood of a few deserters who thought it would be a good idea to ambush them.

"Must you always sulk?" Nate asks teasingly. He shoots his little brother grin before rustling his hair with only annoys him more.

"Not if you would also carry firewood." He mutters. "It's your campsite too after all."

Nate ignores this little barb with a shrug. "We had a deal. I hunt, you carry. I promised mother I would look after you and that's what I'm doing. I'm providing food for you."

Carver rolls his eyes and continues out a few yards before noticing Nate is no longer with him. Stopping, he turns around to see Nate with a confused expression as he pats himself down.

"What are you doing?"

Nate's eyes meet his. "Go on ahead and get the fire started. I think I left my knife in the saddlebag of my horse."

"Forget it. You can just use mine."

Nate shakes his head as he waves him off. "Mine is better. Go on. I'll be there in a few."

Before Carver could argue, Nate swivels around and starts running back toward the stables. Carver lets out an exasperated sigh and continues his way towards camp. Heading away from the main camp, Carver dodges the broken pillars and crumbled arches before something catches his attention at the corner of his eye. Stopping, his brows furrow as he catches sight of what looks like the tip of a boot sticking out from behind a wall. Glancing around, he slowly inches toward it. He clears his throat before speaking. "Hello?"

A weak whine sounds and he once more stops in his tracks. Could that be a darkspawn? He thought to himself, making a chill run down his spine. He had never personally seen one but he had heard stories from the Wardens about the creatures with their milk-white eyes, gaping mouths filled with razor sharp teeth and spiked armor. He was not looking forward to seeing them in battle.

Once more he glances around before inching forward. Before he can call out for a response, another weak whine sounds. Swallowing, he quietly sets the firewood down and reaches a hand toward his sword, cursing inwardly as it shakes. He slowly inches around the wall, his heart pounding loudly in his chest while his muscles tense in preparation to fight. Clearing the wall, His hand drops as his brows furrowed at the woman passed out near a mabari. The hound lifts its head from it's unconscious owner to look at him, emitting another whine.

"Ana?" He gasps, his brows jumping up. Kneeling beside her, he shoots Much a wary glance before leaning down to listen for breathing. Relief surges through him and he places a hand on her shoulder and gently pushes her onto her back. Her eyes are closed and her short hair covers half her face. He brushes her hair away and gently shakes her shoulder. "Ana." He hisses. "Wake up!"

With no response, he begins to panic. Looking at her, he sees some bruising and a couple cuts beneath the mud caked on her arms and in her hair. Jumping up, he looks around him for something to use to help her but finds nothing. Nate! He'll be able to help!

"Stay here." He tells the dog. "Watch over her. I'll get help."

Jumping back up, he quickly runs back the way he came, his gaze searching the area for his brother when he practically collides with him.

"Dammit Carver!" Nate exclaims as one of the tankards from his hand falls from his hand and spills into the mud. He looks down at it with grief before taking a drink of the other. "That one is yours, by the way."

Carver frantically waves his brother's comment away. "Who cares about that! I need your help."
Nate raises a brow. "If this is about lighting the campfire because you can't do it…"

Carver shakes his head. "No. It's Ana. She's passed out and is bruised and bleeding."

Together, they rush back to where Much and Ana are lying near the wall and Nate pushes his tankard to his brother as he drops down to his knees beside her. Just as Carver did, he leans down to listen for her breathing before nodding. "Good. She's still breathing." Reaching out, he touches are hand which is already clammy and cold. He frowns. "She's freezing. Let's get her back to our camp so she can warm up and I can get a better look at her injuries."

Scooping her up, her head lops to the side and rests against his chest as he adjusts her. He glances over to the pale Carver standing nearby with his tankard. "Go get the fire started. I'll be there in a moment."

Carver doesn't move as he looks at Ana's lifeless body. "Carver!" Nate hisses. "Go!"

Nodding, Carver begins to pick up the wood he previously dropped as Nate turns to look at Much. He whistles to get his attention and motions with his chin toward his camp.

"Come on, Much."

Much whines as he gets up, favoring one of his front paws as he limps after Nate.