"Afraid? What? Me? Hey now, that's assuming too much! Cautious, maybe, but I ain't afraid of anything!" the (apparently) Qunari man scoffs, setting both feet on the ground and propping his fists on his hips to look down his upturned nose as imperiously as possible.

"I will have you know, usually blowing me up or setting me on fire just makes me more likely to come back and wreck you worse a few minutes later. However, I've suddenly had to deal with a bout of mortality, okay? It's complicated," the man huffs, frowning and closing the distance between them. Putting both gloved hands on the table - not without that faint hint of green lingering in his palm - Mac leans forward, squinting suspiciously at the young woman. Though short for a Qunari, the gold-plated ram horns make for an impressive sight, light from candles and torches creating a warm halo about his purple hair and blue-gray skin.

"Two things: One, what's the mating cycle for East Orlesian Gurguts? Two, what's got you so distracted? You just tired? Hungry? You look hungry, but I think that could just be me projecting," he muses, bending down a little further still to prop himself on one elbow and lean across the table with his free hand outstretched.

"I'm Mac."