Her kind. The words themselves make Sina's blood boil, an angry flush rising in her cheeks, and of course her eyes beginning to shed tears, since her anger is rarely graceful or poised. "My" kind," she sputters, "is their kind. And if it weren't for your kind, alienages wouldn't exist at all. And perhaps the Dalish wouldn't either, because we'd all still be welcome in the world your kind took from us." She's too hurt to even look back at the other elves, having more or less abandoned the idea of offering any assistance; she's just not about to take this kind of insult lying down. If she weren't the First, she might. But she has to be an example. Probably.
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The words themselves make Sina's blood boil, an angry flush rising in her cheeks, and of course her eyes beginning to shed tears, since her anger is rarely graceful or poised.
"My" kind," she sputters, "is their kind. And if it weren't for your kind, alienages wouldn't exist at all. And perhaps the Dalish wouldn't either, because we'd all still be welcome in the world your kind took from us." She's too hurt to even look back at the other elves, having more or less abandoned the idea of offering any assistance; she's just not about to take this kind of insult lying down. If she weren't the First, she might. But she has to be an example.
Probably.