Sorrel's been to formal events before. Albeit, they were Dalish formalities, which even in their extremity resembled nothing so much as particularly important family gatherings. It's difficult to stand on more than mere ceremony, when all you have is a dirt floor, a leaf-canopy roof and the sky for a hat. Still, he's not without manners, and comes bearing gifts, and arrives early.

Well, gift. But it's a voluminous one, arms overflowing with branches and each one green as spring and lined with yellow blossoms, each no larger than the tip of his thumb. There were enough of them to make the carrying a real burden, but he managed well enough; with help, he hadn't even lost much to pickpockets on his way back to the Gallows, nor much trouble seeding the magic needed in the garden. He'd hear for it later, but sometimes it was worth the labor of digging up a bush later, for the sake of gratitude owed.

"As requested, Messere," He smirks around the bundle, dressed in green and copper mage's robes of Dalish cut, and fine enough for any Keeper.This was Beleth's idea of Best Dressed, and knowing his limits Sorrel had submitted to her rule of law. There's nothing to be done with that hair, however, "Are they anything you hoped for?"