He could, he thinks, find a graceful way out of all this if the aftermath of panic hadn't left his mind so dull and cobwebbed. As it is the best he can do is keep his face turned toward Anders in what would be a stare from someone with eyes, and listen.
And listen, as he's handed a fine excuse for what happened out there, a plausible story he could submit to and then he wouldn't have to explain to anyone-- But it wouldn't be true, and the idea he's some novice to take fright at an ambush stings, besides. (Leave aside the comment about not being able to see.) He's not craven. He isn't.
"We were ambushed more than once on our way to Kirkwall." The words are quiet and precise. "It fell to me to deal with anything that got past our templars.
"I don't want anything--but thank you for your consideration." At the very least he can put a crumb of sincerity in the words. Kindness is kindness, no matter the source, no matter how undesired.
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And listen, as he's handed a fine excuse for what happened out there, a plausible story he could submit to and then he wouldn't have to explain to anyone-- But it wouldn't be true, and the idea he's some novice to take fright at an ambush stings, besides. (Leave aside the comment about not being able to see.) He's not craven. He isn't.
"We were ambushed more than once on our way to Kirkwall." The words are quiet and precise. "It fell to me to deal with anything that got past our templars.
"I don't want anything--but thank you for your consideration." At the very least he can put a crumb of sincerity in the words. Kindness is kindness, no matter the source, no matter how undesired.