"I'm familiar with danger," she replies, her chin coming up. Her voice isn't loud, but it's firm. She makes herself stop fidgeting, stops herself from chewing on her lower lip - tries, generally, to look respectable and reliable and steady. Grown-up.

"I've faced it down before. I'm not afraid to face it again." A breath. "And while I'd go where you directed me, I'd do best outside of Skyhold. Dwarves with pony-carts often go unnoticed." She allows a bit of dryness when she says, "Humans seem to think we're all merchant caste. It's when we're not trading that they get unnerved by us."

This, of course, conflicts a bit with what she's told Leliana before. A firm willingness to leave Skyhold does not, perhaps, line up with her previous claims of having come to the Inquisition out of fear and desire for shelter. But - no matter, surely.