His response has Christine drawing her arm away from him, her lips set in a firm line. She's in no mood to be corrected, even if her logic is flawed. She merely wants to complain because she's frustrated, upset, and hanging on by a thread. So what if others are too? All she can do is deal with her own feelings on the matter, not anyone else's.
Tears prick the corners of her eyes, and so she finds it best to stay silent, face turned away from him as they walk. Within moments, they exit the central tower and are greeted by the sight of those ugly statues, the stairs, and the Waking Sea beyond.
What he's said is perfectly reasonable, of course. Knowing what the future could hold means doing all they can to prevent it from happening, and it's not like many would volunteer to take up a position in Kirkwall. Hence why they've all been ordered here. The spikes of red lyrium still being carted away before them reminds Christine of her own fate in the future, and she tucks her arms in against her chest, knowing that she's at high risk for such a thing still coming true. The only difference seemed to be that the Red Templars had spread the red lyrium so much that it added to her already higher than average exposure. Removing the lyrium from the Gallows should hopefully reduce her risk.
"Will you continue your work as a blacksmith here?" she finally asks, not acknowledging what he's said. Hopefully he notes the tremble to her voice and forgives her for not continuing the conversation in the direction he had been.
no subject
Tears prick the corners of her eyes, and so she finds it best to stay silent, face turned away from him as they walk. Within moments, they exit the central tower and are greeted by the sight of those ugly statues, the stairs, and the Waking Sea beyond.
What he's said is perfectly reasonable, of course. Knowing what the future could hold means doing all they can to prevent it from happening, and it's not like many would volunteer to take up a position in Kirkwall. Hence why they've all been ordered here. The spikes of red lyrium still being carted away before them reminds Christine of her own fate in the future, and she tucks her arms in against her chest, knowing that she's at high risk for such a thing still coming true. The only difference seemed to be that the Red Templars had spread the red lyrium so much that it added to her already higher than average exposure. Removing the lyrium from the Gallows should hopefully reduce her risk.
"Will you continue your work as a blacksmith here?" she finally asks, not acknowledging what he's said. Hopefully he notes the tremble to her voice and forgives her for not continuing the conversation in the direction he had been.