There were things Anders expected out of life – templars, running, darkspawn, bouts of mind-numbing terror, and more running.
There were things Anders wanted out of life – a good meal, a place where he didn't have to run, an attractive partner, the chance to shoot lightning at fools, and every night a goodnight kiss.
With the wardens, he got far too much out of the first category, and not nearly enough out of the second.
But every night, whether he was curled in his bedroll in some Deep Roads cavern or stretched out in his bunk in Vigil's Keep, he got his goodnight kiss.
"Who's a good kitty, Ser Pounce-a-lot?" He planted a kiss on the cat's forehead.
Meow.
"You are. Yes you are."