Cade looks at his hands. "I um. I got restless, so... I... went a little ways away. From the healers. To be alone." He had been in the general vicinity of the healing tents, but, to Anders' credit, not where he was supposed to be.
"He came over and told me to go back. And um." At this Cade goes red, knowing he's pretty obviously int he wrong here. "...I wouldn't. Because he's..." He clamps his mouth shut and rubs the back of his neck, glancing furtively between Norrington and Howe. Neither of them was in Kirkwall, neither understands the exact thought process of being told what to do by the person who was, at least superficially, responsible for what has turned into years of intrinsic terror.

"I... think I... started to go back?" he continues, his voice lowering; he had panicked, which often means he blanks out, and this time is no exception. "...but I fell, and..." He winces. Everything after this is jumbled shouting and blind fear, anger, something in between.
"Someone-- that chantry brother-- arrived and gave me his crutch. And then I went back." His shoulders hunch slightly. As usual, Cade hardly comes out looking like the innocent party. But if there's one hill he'll die on, it's having nothing to do with That Mage.