This is maddening. Teren thought, ever so briefly, that she was being taken seriously, that the others would jump to get to the bottom of her suspicions. As the night wears on, it becomes increasingly apparent that this is not the case. Frustratingly enough, she hasn't been able to find any leads either to confirm her worries or to safely get everyone out, and doubt has begun to creep into her mind that she may be lunging at shadows.
Sitting on a barrel in the courtyard, Teren is using her belt knife to slowly whittle a fallen piece of bark into nothing. She tells herself she's waiting and listening, but in reality, she's avoiding any sort of company at all. Perhaps she was wrong. She doesn't need that in her face at the moment.
"Fancy that," she mutters impassively, without looking up.
Edited (I forgot to have her answer 8V) 2017-07-01 06:38 (UTC)
He exhales slowly, looking down at his feet. Even though there'd been nothing solid about them being in danger, Anders feels a little guilty.
"I've been there," he finally says quietly. "I've seen imminent danger when there wasn't. But you helped put everyone on alert." They were already, due to the cheerful welcome that they weren't used to. But she'd put an edge on that
"We're a little more prepared for whatever is truly going on here, as it's rather difficult to believe there's nothing up."
Teren pauses in her whittling to listen, then scowls and proceeds once more. She doesn't speak for a while, too busy stewing, hating the notion that she might have been wrong and sent everyone into a tizzy for no reason. This means the next time she won't be taken seriously. And perhaps she is just losing her mind-- it's not like Wardens are known to live long.
After at least a minute of pensive silence, she chucks the last chip of wood to the ground and drapes her hands between her knees. "You don't have to do this," she says, still glaring forward, "perhaps I just don't know a good thing when I see it."
"Of course I don't have to. I'm not Alistair or Nate, with some title requiring them to see to things." No title at all, but now is not the time for his issues and concerns that the Wardens will never actually have any faith in him.
He shifts against the tree, shrugging, gaze lingering on the tossed chip of wood. She's angry, but she hasn't stormed off and that's become his measure of how bad a situation is with her.
"Truth be told, there are so few good things in this world that it's hard to trust it. Maybe somehow this is all on the level and it's okay. But that's not how things have ever gone for me. And by the sounds of it, it's not how it's ever gone for you. So I wanted to come find you and let you know this hasn't changed anything for me."
The problem with being prickly is that it only tends to worsen as someone becomes more prickly in return, but Teren is tired from being on-edge all day. She's grumpy with Anders, but at least grumpy is all she is. And the more he says, the less grumpy she becomes. "...I appreciate that," she admits in a mutter. "At the very least, if I'm going mad, you are too."
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Sitting on a barrel in the courtyard, Teren is using her belt knife to slowly whittle a fallen piece of bark into nothing. She tells herself she's waiting and listening, but in reality, she's avoiding any sort of company at all. Perhaps she was wrong. She doesn't need that in her face at the moment.
"Fancy that," she mutters impassively, without looking up.
no subject
"I've been there," he finally says quietly. "I've seen imminent danger when there wasn't. But you helped put everyone on alert." They were already, due to the cheerful welcome that they weren't used to. But she'd put an edge on that
"We're a little more prepared for whatever is truly going on here, as it's rather difficult to believe there's nothing up."
no subject
After at least a minute of pensive silence, she chucks the last chip of wood to the ground and drapes her hands between her knees. "You don't have to do this," she says, still glaring forward, "perhaps I just don't know a good thing when I see it."
no subject
He shifts against the tree, shrugging, gaze lingering on the tossed chip of wood. She's angry, but she hasn't stormed off and that's become his measure of how bad a situation is with her.
"Truth be told, there are so few good things in this world that it's hard to trust it. Maybe somehow this is all on the level and it's okay. But that's not how things have ever gone for me. And by the sounds of it, it's not how it's ever gone for you. So I wanted to come find you and let you know this hasn't changed anything for me."
no subject
"...I appreciate that," she admits in a mutter. "At the very least, if I'm going mad, you are too."