"Maybe so," Jone says grudgingly, "but I hope you're keeping it to yourself. For your sake, not mine."

Loghain between them makes an affronted sound, not quite a grunt, as his goal is pulled further out of reach. Jone keeps her eyes on the road, but a smile curls at her face.

"They're not spirits, or... viera." Whatever that is. "They're twats."