There's a funny expression on her face, difficult to place. Perhaps it's comforting, that none of this will matter in the end; she'd find it more so, if she could believe it made anything matter less in the moment.

But it's a longer string of serious words than she's ever heard of him, and that's something in itself. An offering. If it still all matters for too fucking much, and too little by turns —

— Well. At least they're not alone in that.

"Live in the now, yes?" Hashtag YOLO, tell your friends, but she doesn't sound as though her heart's in it. The body pile's not far ahead, she stoops to begin prying Bonesy out of the barrel. "Or in the stomach of a bird."

Let the Dalish keep their trees. (She does listen when he speaks, even if it's not to her.)

"Better voices of those, anyway."