He doesn't reach out to touch her again, letting her come to wakefulness and knowing exactly how he must have looked. Purrelden, on the other hand, mews in protest at the jerk. She keeps being disturbed and she reaches up to put a paw on Adelaide as if to still her.

"This fever is not kind," he says after a few moments. "The good news is no one new has come in, and no one has run away from the tents only to be dragged back."

Justice is rumbling about fear and the Chantry winning every time someone reacts with fear to their own abilities or to mages in general, and Anders wishes he could simply cut the spirit off, stop him from talking.

"And please ignore Justice." Fear is bad to react to, horrible, he agrees, but he's not tactless enough to say anything remotely like that. She has lost. There is no point to drive that home, no point to lecture.