If someone had asked Alistair a day ago of what his chances of running into a scarily dressed woman who could fly was, he might have ranked it only slightly below a full scale invasion of cheese eating monsters. A Blight was a time for strange occurrences after all. Giant dragons, insane apostates, even a massive stone golem, he thought he had truly come across creatures of all ilk. Studying the black armored figure before him quickly obliterated that idea. She had flown! Like a crazy, flying, woman thing.

What if she's not human? He wondered. It was true the general shape of her armor was… feminine, but the black material across her helmet prevented any view of her features. The only color on her, was the glowing runes along her back and chest, and a single red and white stripe down her arm. "Running you say?" Alistair chuckled nervously. "I don't know about you but I don't make a habit of running from things." Unless, she was a demon? Was it possible for spirits to complete such feats? Suddenly Alistair wished he'd paid more attention to the Templar's teachings in the monastery.

"Cute." The woman, Shepard, tilted her head to regard him. "Right. Since we're getting to know each other better, maybe you could help me out? I think we lost whatever the hell those things were."

He nodded companionably. "Of course."

"I don't suppose you could tell me what system we're in?"

"System?"

"You know, sector?" At his blank silence she sighed. Her helmet shifted to face him as she seemed to come to some sort of decision with a nod. "Listen, I'm not sure what kind of recreational activity you're into, and honestly, I don't really care." With an encompassing swing of her arm she gestured to his armor and weapons, "but I don't have time for games. I need off this planet, and soon, and since my comm's fried, I need some assistance. So let's break immersion here for a second in your LARPing campaign, and talk to me straight. Where are we?"

Alistair leaned back from her slightly, his stomach clenching in apprehension. Comms, larping, sector? Maybe his offer of camp hospitality had been premature. Maker knows Aiden would have his head. The potentially dangerous, spirit/apostate woman was completely out of her mind. "Um, you're in Ferelden my'l….ser, just west of the town of Lothering." Yup, she was definitely a ser. No my ladies here if he wanted to leave this encounter with all his limbs.

"You're human right?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Yes ma'am."

She hmm'd quietly, climbing to her feet. "Ferelden? I've never heard of a planet called Ferelden. And God knows I've spent enough time staring at that damn galaxy map to remember a place called that. Especially a garden class planet such as this one." She started pacing around him, her body cutting an intimidating silhouette. "Do you have an Omni-tool that works?"

"Omni-tool?" Riiiiggght, definitely crazy. Such a pity too, she seemed so nice. "Not quite sure what that is to be completely honest." Silently he assessed his mobility. Though he had her on size and weight, the flying thing squashed Alistair's notions of fleeing, and call him proper, but something about knocking a woman unconscious and leaving her in a darkspawn infested forest left a bad taste in his mouth. "Are you feeling quite alright?" Nervously he shuffled around the stump away from her.

"Seriously?" Reaching forward she seized his breastplate, dragging him close to her face.

"Andraste's ass!" He gasped, dangling in her grip. Maker, she was strong.

"Alright Alistair, listen to me closely." With a flick of her wrist she plucked his helmet from his head, tossing it over her shoulder. "I don't have time for games. I need to get into contact with the Alliance ASAP, and to do that, I need a working communication system, and since mine is fried, I'm going to need you to direct me to one."

"I swear, I'm not lying, I have no idea what you're talking about! Maker's breath woman!" He searched the opaque strip of black where her eyes would be. "I have never heard of this Alliance, or of an Omni-tool and I have no idea what you mean by comms!" Alistair tensed in her grip as she stilled. Much as it would pain him to do it, he had heard her wheezing as they ran together. His eyes trailed to the plates around her waist. He knew one swift kick and she would drop him.

Shepard stood frozen, staring at him. "You really don't, do you?"

Alistair shook his head vigorously, "Really, really." Abruptly she dumped him on the ground, staring at him aghast. He groaned as his weight came down on his injured leg, nearly falling back to the forest floor before Shepard swiftly caught him. Embarrassed he peared sheepishly up at her helmet as her arms propped him up. "You know, usually I am the one doing the catching. Part of my charm and all that."

She let out an annoyed grunt and helped him back to the ground. "What the hell kind of place is this?" She ran her hands over her helmet, backing away from him slowly. "I'm sorry Alistair, but you have to understand. How is there a human on a planet like this with no technological knowledge? We haven't been colonizing planets long enough!" Gesturing wildly, she flung her hand in his direction, "You're carrying a sword!" With a huff she regarded him from his sprawled position on the ground, hands bracing on her hips. "This is a mess."

"Right." Alistair scrambled to his feet, plucking his helmet from its position by his foot. Maybe a strategic retreat would be prudent now? Shepard, had started pacing back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching, muttering under her breath. Should he risk taking her back to camp with him? But could he really leave her out here alone? Even if she was crazy? He watched her progress back and forth, heard the faint wheeze of her breath, caught the pained hitch in her shoulders as she shifted. Alistair compressed his lips, thoughts racing. Finally he heaved a sigh, casting his gaze skyward beseechingly. He was a Grey Warden. It was his duty to help people and she hadn't killed him yet.

"Shepard?"

Slowly she turned to face him, her body tense. "I shouldn't have grabbed you like that earlier. I'm sorry."

Alistair gave a mock shrug. "What is a little manhandling between friends?"

Shepard let out a brief huff, turning her visor to meet his eyes. "I think we should start over." With a hiss of air and a soft chime, she pulled her helmet off in one quick, practiced move.

Alistair flinched at the foreign sound and then stiffened, the air in his lung's stilled. She was beautiful. Human and wrecked as she was with dark streaks of soot running along her cheeks. Her dark red hair curled around her ears while blood coating the side of her temple pulled the messy strand from the bun. Lifting his gaze he was surprised by the pair of green eyes peering at him calmly.

He blushed at the eye contact before quickly snapping his gaze back to her head. "You're injured!" Hesitantly he took a stumbling step forward, reaching out with an unsure hand to her face.

Shepard immediately took a quick step back, hand searching briefly to feel the bump on the side of her head. "So I am." she gave him a wry grin, "Though considering I fell from space," at that she pointed up to the sky, "I feel like a little scratch is a small price to pay."

"Ah, space. Right…" Mentally he cursed himself. She's dangerous, Alistair! Dangerous, beautiful, and absolutely crazy. Kind of like Leliana— though Shepard was more brute strength than stabby. He shook himself, studying her guarded expression cautiously.

"I understand if you don't want to take me with you any further, Alistair." She shifted her gaze to the ground, hands clasping behind her back in a solid parade rest. "I know I wouldn't have been too happy if you had grabbed me like that. If you could point me in the direction of that town you mentioned I would be grateful."

Alistair groaned, "Lothering is probably nothing but a darkspawn infested smear at the moment." Aiden, was going to be so furious with him. "Can I have your word that you won't make a habit of throwing people around? That you won't injure me or any of my friends?"

She gave him a clipped nod. "Of course. You have it."

Alistair sighed, he just knew he had probably been manipulated, but damn if he was going to leave her out here. "Very well, come with me then, and we'll see if we can't help you fix your, what did you call it, your comm? From camp. Barring that, we can at least see to your head."

Shepard gave him another brief nod before clipping her helmet to her belt. Carefully, she offered him her arm and with an exasperated sigh he allowed her to sling his arm over her shoulder again. Peace offering noted.

Silence and then, "The medi-gel should have you fixed completely in another hour or so but until then it's probably best you don't put too much weight on your leg."

Alistair peered at her from the corner of his eye and hmm'd in acknowledgment. Slowly they started forward, him subtly directing her in the right direction.

After a while, quietly she murmured, "Thank you."

He dipped his head in a nod and pressed his lips together. "You're welcome."