"Join the Inquisition, they said," Dane huffed as he bashed the tent peg into the dirt with a large rock.
"You're the only one that can do it, they said."
He heard Varric snicker from behind him as the dwarf helped Solas set up the other tent. Once Dane had thoroughly belted the metal into the ground he stood and surveyed the horizon. The sun had just disappeared over the mountains to the West, casting the plains of the Hinterlands in a peculiar pink glow. Pink was probably an exaggeration. It was an unnatural blend of a pale rose, streaked with electric green from the Breach which still thundered and roared in the heavens. Dane rubbed his hands along his forearms and glared at the snowy peaks as if they had personally slighted him. He was unused to the bare elements; at this time he was usually curled up in front of a roaring fire with a book in his hand. Cassandra shot him a sideways look as she finished deftly hammering in the other peg, clearly aware of his shortcomings.

"Perhaps we should collect some firewood."
She spoke with the a tinge of humour to her voice. Dane shifted his glare in her direction, aware Solas and Varric were watching on with knowing smiles at his discomfort.

"Certainly, Seeker Cassandra. I would hate for you to catch a chill."
Dane replied sarcastically as he turned and began the short walk to the copse south of the camp. They had decided to rest for the night near the horsemaster's farm, having secured both his mounts and his permission to rest on his land.

He stepped into the trees, shivering at the sudden temperature plummet only a few steps into the thicket. He paused before continuing, opening his palm and letting a trickle of energy flow from his center. A small purple flame erupted in his hand, spreading over his fingertips harmlessly. He extended his arm like a torch, sweeping his gaze across the ground for kindling. He picked up almost every stick he came across; internally berating himself that he didn't even know which type of wood he should be looking for, except that it should be dry. His thoughts grew deeper as he ambled through the woods, eyes trained on the ground. 'So much relies on me. All on this.. thing'. He flexed his left hand, feeling the mark flash in response. 'Now I'm camping in the middle of nowhere with a super Templar, a writer with a tongue quick as a whip, and an elf with an affinity for mystery' he shook his head in amusement. 'It should really be sad that this beats the circle a hundred times over'.

When he realised his arm was laden heavy with wood, Dane looked up. He reached his hand out in front of him and pulsed energy through his veins; lighting up the woods surrounding him with each heartbeat. It was darker than he remembered. He felt a pang of something forming in his gut. 'Of course it's darker, you idiot. You came in as the sun was setting,' he chastised himself, turning his body in a circle, 'these damned trees all look the same'. The pang in his gut morphed into a heavy stone that seemed to pull him lower to the ground. His breath fogged in front of his face, the chill of the woods suddenly thick and suffocating. His eyes darted from tree to tree; black branches casting moving shadows due to the flickering light he held. 'Perhaps if I can see the stars..' He thrust his head backwards, craning his neck to try and see the sky. The trees were far too tall, and far too menacing. They seemed to curve inwards, reaching down for the miniscule creature lost, and quickly becoming afraid.

"Shit." He breathed aloud.

Dane's teeth clacked together despite the small fire in front of him. Most of his energy had been spent fighting Templars and apostates alike during the daylight hours, leaving him with barely enough willpower to stay awake, let alone fuel a roaring bonfire with his spells. He drew his cloak tighter around him in the small hope it had suddenly gained two more layers. 'Think of what they'll write about you. "The great Herald of Andraste: died of exposure one day into his grand journey."' He thought of the rest of his group. No doubt they were searching for him, as he had the only means of closing the rifts. 'But how far can they search in one night? In the dark no less.' He remembered the howling of some dreaded creature he had heard a short time ago, which had spurred him to create the small fire in hopes of deterring any prowling creatures. He sighed in exasperation, watching the small flames crackle between his feet.

Just as Dane began to doze he heard the unmistakable crack of a branch behind him. He leapt up, forgoing quietness in his panic. His heartbeat rushed in his ears and his arms began to tingle as the reserves of his strength pooled at his fingertips. He stared into the darkness where the snap had originated from, his breathing slowing as he prepared to attack. 'This had better not be just a damn deer. I'm going to kill Varric if one of his clichés actually happens to me' he thought internally, and very nearly hysterically. A few moments passed with no more noise. He risked a glance towards the fire that had been at his feet. 'I must have dozed longer than I thought' all that remained of the fire was a meek pile of smouldering ashes. He looked back to the darkness, wondering if he was just as obscured.

"Herald? Is that you?"

He nearly fell over at the sound of Cassandra's voice.

"Cassandra? Why didn't you come out?" He whisper-shouted as she walked closer to him. She sparked some flint and lit the torch in her hand, sheathing her longsword at the same time. She frowned at him, stopping close enough for the light to reach his face.

"I did not recognise you.. Your eyes.." She felt no need for whispering, instead speaking clearly and gesturing her hand towards his face.

"What do you mean?"

She paused before answering, her eyebrows knitted together.

"Your eyes. They are like that of a wolf. Glowing in the darkness."

Dane blinked in his own confusion. "Glowing?" He let out a grunt of confusion, but shrugged, eager to get back to the camp where he could question her further without fearing for his life. 'Well, my life will probably still be in danger but at least I won't be alone' he thought. He looked to his feet and back at Cassandra who still watched him with a bemused expression.

"I, uh.. sorry. I shouldn't have wandered so far." He said lamely.

"You're right. Don't do it again." With that she turned around and began traipsing back the way she came. Dane rubbed his brow in annoyance at his folly and glanced back at the pile of wood. He quickly leant back down and hoisted it into his arms, setting off in a slight jog to keep pace with Cassandra, lest she leave him behind.

Dane's legs were sluggish as he trailed behind Solas, his eyes fixed on the man's bare heels in front of him. The elf seemed to walk with a natural grace. The grass sprang back to shape with each step he took, leaving almost no sign he had walked there at all. Dane looked down at his own boots and inspected their state. The grey leather covering his own feet was splattered with flecks of mud and what looked to be blood, both fresh and dried. He felt that unfamiliar lump rise in his throat once more, recalling the skirmish they had waged against a rogue contingent of Templars on the way out of the Hinterlands. They had recognised him as a mage almost immediately, singling him out in the heat of combat and advancing on him like beasts with the scent of blood in their nostrils. Solas had retreated fast enough to not get trapped, unlike Dane who had no such instinct for strategy and had been backed into the stone of the mountains to their side. The Templars had raised their heavy shields, causing the attacks that had spewed from his hands to bounce off harmlessly, not even leaving a dent in the flaming swords that embellished the metal. Dane cast his glance up to Cassandra who was currently at the head of the group, taking measured strides through the grass. 'Leading us back to safety. Again.' He mused. He thought back to the fight once more. She had entered the fray like a wolf amidst a pack of sheep. Slashing through their armour and glancing off blows with her shield that would have caved in a larger man's chest. The men surrounding him had fallen in seconds, dropping one by one to the ground; dead.

He lengthened his stride, managing to find the vigour to actually match her pace. She looked over to him as she walked, seemingly studying him.

"You did well today, Herald."

Dane couldn't help the huff of laughter that left his lips.
"If by 'did well' you mean 'acted as a big, trembling target', then thank you. If not, well I'd have to get Solas to check your head for injuries."

He watched as that rare soft smile spread across her lips, and he had to remind himself again not to be caught staring like a wide-eyed simpleton.

"A target you may be, but you still fought back. Most who have never been in combat would have turned and ran."

'If I had run, you just would have had another expedition into the woods to find me', he thought with a pang of embarrassment. Cassandra turned her head back to the path ahead of them.

"Mother Giselle will arrive in Haven in the next few days. Until then, you can do some training with the troops." She continued.

Dane cast his eyes back to the path in front of him and nodded quietly, feeling much like a child being told to tidy his room.

"Perhaps then you won't be just a trembling target next time."

[A.N] While this story will follow the main events of DA:I, I will be including some little excursions like in this chapter. I find sticking solely to the main plot doesn't leave much room for character development, plus it's fun to explore some little scenarios with everyone's personalities. Thank you to all that have reviewed, followed and favourited. It's a really nice boost to see you all enjoying it so far. [/A.N]