She is quiet as she listens, holding Sina's hand in hers. It is easy to feel anger and grief, but they don't help as much. She is tired of hurting, and she's fairly certain that Sina is, too. And so Merrill murmurs, quiet: "We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit."

Then she makes sure her gaze meets that of the other elf and clears her throat. "There is so much fear and hate toward our people. If we can do well here, prove that we are just as worthy of respect as any human -- ones without magic, even -- then perhaps some minds will be changed. There is so much hurt in the world, and everyone seems to keep doing their best to continue it." Merrill swallows, gaze flickering back toward the stones before returning to Sina.

"Do you think- we can help? Recover our lost lore and show that we are just as worthy of respect, as both elves and mages? It may be under the Inquistion's banner, but- we have not had many other choices, before. No one else who would listen."