Unlocking his door since he's never so foolish as to leave it any other way, and least of all these days, Yngvi leans inside to disarm the traps he set up just in case as the large angry goose rouses itself at the sight of a stranger until he flaps back. Be quiet, he mutters under his breath, and it settles back on top of a nest of blankets and nugs. Yngvi has also been part of that nest because it's warm if liable to end up with someone or something poking you at weird hours.

"It's how Orzammar's always been, even if Bhelen made it better for the Casteless, he can't change that much or they'd all go fullscale revolt. You inherit the Caste of the same-sex parent, it's how it always is. How it'll be even when the Darkspawn finally eat all of them at last." There's not really malice in him, it's hard to have personal malice at a thing that much bigger, just him, turning back with a resigned expression. It's tiring, it's all tiring. "Aren't there things like that where you're from? Or is it better?"