Their trip to the Hinterlands was uneventful. It's a relief. At the same time though, Kasaanda found herself just waiting for something to happen. Even when they worked on knocking out the tasks on her to-do list everything went according to plan for once. Demons were slayed, rifts were closed and civilians given whatever help she could give, be it locating loved ones, gathering supplies or whatever errand was needed. They even managed to find some elvhen artifact Solas had wanted to find, saying it could useful for the area. The only thing out of place was the whispers that transpired over the course of the five days they were there. The subject of course was the mysterious figure that had been and continued to steal here and there from people. One of the interesting stories that floated about was how this thief actually ended up saving some farmers from demons that had appeared in their fields and homestead. And after the fight she had took nothing from them, not even a small reward when offered. Instead this rogue had just vanished off.

This story and others rolled around in her mind as she stirred the stew she had prepared for them all for dinner. A change of pace from the typical rations. In the morning they'd make their way back to Haven. Despite all the rumors that floated about, they had not encountered the person at the center of them all.

"Things seem to be slowly returning to some sort of normalcy around here. Of course nothing will truly be the way it was until the Breach is closed." Cassandra says. "We still don't know who or what even is lurking in the area. It would have been nice to find out."

"And you said Nightingale didn't have much information, right?" Varric asks, looking at the Herald.

Kasaanda gave a nod coupled with a quick glance. "Right. She seemed frustrated that her agents nor our scouts could really collect much intel. No one's seen any use of magic. It was noted that the stranger was very accomplished with a sword and seemed to favor heavy armor. Odd considering the same person was able to easily commit acts of thievery while also avoiding or having as little contact with people as possible." Bowls are filled and passed out to her companions along with the Inquisition officers camping with them. "I would have liked to solve the mystery as well. Currently, I don't know if it would be worth the time and resources to hunt down someone we know very little about."

"From the sounds of it this person must be a professional. No ordinary bandit. What's odd is whoever this is has taken care not to harm any of the locals." Solas adds.

A good point. One would think that along the way someone would get hurt in the midst of this thief's activities. Not only that, but what kind of pickpocket helps people? One with morals it seemed. In any case, there's no use lingering on the matter. "Perhaps. I suppose as long as no serious damage is done we'll let sleeping dogs lie. If that changes then maybe we'll start a manhunt."

When she starts to clean up the campsite, she politely declines help from the others, insisting that they should get some rest before they have to leave at the first light of morning. She sits outside by the fire a littler longer. There's a bit of hesitance to lay down and sleep considering she doesn't know what her dreams will produce this night. Not only that but there's an odd feeling that has settled over her; one she couldn't quite identify. Eventually with a sigh she gives up and crawls into her tent. Little did she or any of the others know that someone's been spying on them for a majority of the day.

For almost two weeks she's wandered the area aimlessly. After she had collapsed in this new world, she had awoken to the find that she was in a tent filled with other injured persons. It was comforting to know she had not been left on death's doorstep. Yet it hadn't taken long for panic to set in. She left without so much as a word to anyone. Not without snagging some supplies first though along with a bit of coin. From there she developed a habit of simply taking the things she needed along with a little gold here and there. She could have tried to seek aid from some of the people in the area, sure. The anxiety of being in an unknown place was too great however. Mainly though, she resented the idea of having to ask for help. Hunting wasn't off the table either nor was foraging. The problem with those options boiled down to the fact of she wasn't sure what any of the flora or fauna were which in turn meant she didn't know what was good for eating and what wasn't. Besides that she was already too deep into her routine, which in no time became the talk of the valley. So she stuck with what she knew: stealing. Ironically enough, the one time she was offered a reward for slaying some beasts, she turned it down. Strange considering that's one the things she always worked for. In her younger years she would take the chance to snatch up a payment of gratitude without so much as a blink of an eye. Now though? Now each time she accepted whatever reward was given to her all she felt was numb. Very little pride, very little excitement. Not what it use to be just years ago.

By the start of her second week in this new land she'd managed to snag a map from one of the camps she's come across. That same night she heard talk of an Inquisition that was returning to the area.

' The Herald and a group from the Inquisition are due to return within a day or two with supplies we need to hand out.' One had said.

'I haven't met the Herald of Andraste. I heard she's one of those ox-men. And a mage at that.' Another sneered. That one had received mixed reactions.

'Either way, we're getting what we need. So long as this mess gets fixed, does it really matter who or what is doing it?'

That had made her curious. Ox-men? Herald of Andraste? What did any of that mean? However, she didn't have to wait long for answers. For not but a few days later she caught a glimpse of what presumed to be this so-called Inquisition. A rather small bunch. A very obvious elf, a warrior woman like herself, a human smaller than any she's ever seen and a figure that stood out from all the people she's seen already. Hair long, and wispy white like cobwebs paired with skin the color of onyx with hints of purple. Horns adorn the person's head like a crown, curving in a fashion similar to those of a ram with gold tips. And of course that figure is taller than all the others. If that didn't confirm Freydis' suspicions then the peek at the stranger's face was all the evidence she needed.

Kasaanda. One of her only dear friends in all the realms. Freydis can't help but actually feel excited. It's been about four years, give or take, since the defeat of Alduin and when they had said their goodbyes. The Divines must have felt some sort of pity for her for this to have happened. That or it was a setup. That didn't stop the joy in her heart. She was so exuberant that she almost came running out of her hiding spot towards the other. What stopped her though was the fear that perhaps none of this was real. That this was some trick. A trick by who she wasn't sure. So instead she keeps herself rooted in place and watches the small group carry on with their banter as they hike across the lush fields.

Freydis would follow the group for the next few days. She kept her distance but never strayed to far from them. One night she finally worked up the courage to reveal herself but only to her old friend. She waited patiently for the night to wind down, watching as they all sat around the campfire talking and enjoying their dinner. It was only when the night had worn on and they had all gone to bed leaving but one or two soldiers to watch the camp in sheer boredom did she decide it was the best time to make her move. Now in hindsight it wasn't a great idea sneaking around. It especially became apparent how bad of an idea it was when she sneaked into the Qunari mage's tent only to in the end get headbutted.

Kasaanda had been deeply involved in another dream that wasn't quite the level of a night terror but also wasn't short of being a nightmare. Having someone shake her while hissing her name only caused her to be more frightened. When amber eyes flew open she hadn't recognized the face that hovered above her at first. A scream has let out, yet the stranger had no time to react for Kasaanda sat up rammed her skull at the other woman's. The intruder fell back, knocked out cold. It was merely seconds later when her traveling companions and one of the Inquisition scouts peeked into the tent. A hand was laid upon her chest as she steadied her breathing and her pounding heart slowly calmed down. She felt warmth trickle down her forehead. Only when she saw the dribble of blood flow down her nose did Kasaanda realize she was bleeding. It was no surprise really. The intruder had been wearing a circlet made of strong metal with gemstones inlaid into it.

All eyes turned from her to the woman laid out on the ground. Silence lingered in the air as all merely stayed in their places, shocked at what had just occurred. Slowly Kasaanda crawled forward to gaze upon the poor soul that had frightened her. Her heart skipped a beat. Waves of bold copper hair, pale complexion and two scars on the left cheek. In her heart she knew exactly who this was.

"Well...shit." Varric muttered, shaking his head.

That was the perfect description for the current predicament. Everyone seeing Freydis meant this wasn't a dream. But at the same time now it meant she had to damage control when the other awoke. Not only that, now she had to wonder why her old friend had suddenly appeared and what trouble could be around the corner because of this. Even so it was hard to hold back the jubilation that she felt along with the small smile tugging at her lips as she spoke in the softest of voices.

"Well shit indeed."