VII. CLOSED.

[glandival]

WHO: Alistair and Sabine
WHAT: Puppy killing in disgrace.
WHEN: At a point in Kingsway.
WHERE: Orlesian wilds!!!
NOTES: No actual killing of puppies, probably.

[ They'd asked her where she got such a handsome wolf-skin cloak, and she'd told them the truth; that she slew one, mad with red lyrium, in Emprise du Lion. That's how they wind up here.

In woodlands turning golden with the changing of the season. Dry leaves crackle underfoot. There aren't any spikes of red lyrium pushing out from the earth, nor are there any rifts that haven't already been closed, but the presence of overly aggressive, Fade-touched wolves have been reported by numerous travellers. Sabine had taken the task for promise of gold, and she might have even mentioned this reward to Alistair when she recruited his help.

It's becoming cooler as the afternoon begins its retirement. Her cloak staves it off, wearing light leathers beneath, and while she is cautious, and attempting to track the signs of the forest around her, she isn't moving in the way she would if she were hunting prey animals. Likely, there's little point in trying to sneak up on a wolf.

Eventually, Alistair will hear; ]

Alistair.

[ --in such an understated and quiet voice that it's probably like that for a reason.

And he will see her belly down on the forest floor, peering into the open hollow of a fallen log. Without waiting for him to look too or lend advice, she is reaching a gloved hand inside, and when she pulls it back out, she has a fistful of the scruff of a squirming wolf puppy, one that squeaks weakly, dangling and feeble. ]