At least Varric now could be said to be in camouflage - whether he wanted to be or not.
"You did?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Okay now I'm curious. Which of them is enough of your fan that they would want to get hired as your reader?" He tried to ignore the little unpleasant voice in his chest at the idea of his clan being tied to his friends. His friends who were supposed to be outside his clan, who were supposed to have nothing to do with them.
It was hardly Varric's fault. Everyone liked Varric. He couldn't blame them. But it did make him feel a little miserable. Not that he let it show, of course.
"If anyone comes by, I'll tell them it was your idea," Gavin agreed, forcing a grin to his lips as he turned and beckoned for Varric to follow him. There was a nice thick log that was serving as some sort of seating, and a fire that was only really embers, as well as a crate of supplies. He opened it up - shifting some of the hay that was in there to keep it all dry - and pull some food out. It was, indeed, the same miserable fare as they had everywhere else in camp. But! He pulled out an old, dark bottle with the label utterly destroyed, and handed it to Varric.
"I think it's some sort of alcohol," He said with a chuckle. "I gave it a sniff, it isn't sour, but it's definitely not fine wine. Found it while I was lost."
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"You did?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Okay now I'm curious. Which of them is enough of your fan that they would want to get hired as your reader?" He tried to ignore the little unpleasant voice in his chest at the idea of his clan being tied to his friends. His friends who were supposed to be outside his clan, who were supposed to have nothing to do with them.
It was hardly Varric's fault. Everyone liked Varric. He couldn't blame them. But it did make him feel a little miserable. Not that he let it show, of course.
"If anyone comes by, I'll tell them it was your idea," Gavin agreed, forcing a grin to his lips as he turned and beckoned for Varric to follow him. There was a nice thick log that was serving as some sort of seating, and a fire that was only really embers, as well as a crate of supplies. He opened it up - shifting some of the hay that was in there to keep it all dry - and pull some food out. It was, indeed, the same miserable fare as they had everywhere else in camp. But! He pulled out an old, dark bottle with the label utterly destroyed, and handed it to Varric.
"I think it's some sort of alcohol," He said with a chuckle. "I gave it a sniff, it isn't sour, but it's definitely not fine wine. Found it while I was lost."