"I just realized," Anders grunted and swept the bladed end of his staff up into a spider's mandibles, knocking it back before it could finish its goal of eating his face, "that I hate every single thing that lays eggs."
Isabela laughed as she pulled her daggers out of another's abdomen, sending… was that green? ichor spraying. "What? These aren't better than kittens?"
"No," he snapped, bringing up a hand to freeze the blasted thing when it made another try. What was it about his face? He'd checked the mirror, it wasn't that pretty.
Varric brought up Bianca to rain a shower of arrows down on the fray before adding his two coppers. "He might have a point. Dragons."
Anders bared his teeth in a humorless grin. "Why do they have to lay so bloody many eggs? Every time we try to get up Sundermount, there are always more of those dragonlings."
"Chickens," Hawke shouted, battering a spider with his shield before ramming his sword through the top of its… well, head would have to do. "You can't hate chickens."
"You have obviously never met a chicken," Anders yelled back. "Filthy, bad-tempered, creatures prone to pecking and shitting on poor lads who just want to pet the fluffy things."
Varric and Hawke shared a look.
"Childhood trauma," Varric observed.
"Explains a lot," Hawke agreed. "Now watch your back!"
Right. Back to the spiders.