"Are not shanties meant for the sea?" she asks, clearly teasing him. But once again she's reminded of how worlds can vary so much. It's like a more extreme version of Tevinter vs. the south, or Qunari-held lands vs. Chantry-held lands. To walk into that and live everyday doing one's best to fit in must be exhausting for some.

But some things translate. Like holding hands. She gently swings their joined hands between them with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Would you like to look for a pumpkin now or would you rather stay at the celebration?"