Her, she says, and that's something— albeit not much.

"And your sound judgment has currently left you bleeding; you'll forgive me if I don't trust it outright." This isn't a game. It isn't a joke. Pale light seeps in from the window behind Abby, and it has a way of eclipsing Astarion in her own shadow, his expression gone hard. "I'm not going to tattle on you— whether you started it or she did, I don't care— but I won't be left in the dark about something like this."

His tongue clicks against the back of his canines, sharp.

"Don't make me compel you."