and i still find pieces of you in the back of my mind

[paperwing]

WHO: Sabriel and semi-open.
WHAT: Sabriel goes about her business. Probably feelings. Probably talking.
WHEN: Latter Wintermarch, after she returns from Warden training with Felix and Kaidan.
WHERE: Skyhold.
NOTES: Catch-all, starters below for interested parties. If you'd like to do something, PM me or see this plurk right here and we can figure something out!

Comments

[paperwing]

With the chair pushed out for her, Sabriel sits, balancing her takings from the kitchen on the arm; this doesn't work for the apple, which rolls down towards her lap, so that's the one she decides to eat first. Makes the most sense, really.

"Hmm. At ease for some things," she says vaguely. "Not so much for others. Always one thing swapped for another, never stopping." She leans backward, crunching into the apple. "But Skyhold feels more at ease, too. Less tense. How about you, Sal?"

[salvatore_underfoot]

He gives her a sympathetic look as he arranges his food on the table and breaks open a bread roll to pick at. The insides are better than the crust, you know. "I've been ... I'm fine. Of course I'm fine." He spends more of his spare time in the tavern than he should. But also out among the refugees. "Bit restless, I suppose."

[paperwing]

She eats a lot of bread, simply because it's there, and even now, she still misses bread from Nevarra. How did Ferelden food manage to taste of barely anything? Yet, beggars couldn't be choosers, and at least she can eat. It's low on the list of her concerns.

Fine, he says. The of course gives her a reason to doubt that's the case. "Restless," she repeats. It's a gentle prod, a willingness to listen. "Restlessness that leads to late nights?"