Moving Day

[pinprick]

WHO: All the Wardens and whatever onlookers/helpers they may find.
WHAT: Moving Day
WHEN: Current-ish
WHERE: Skyhold and just outside Skyhold
NOTES: The Wardens are grounded. They have been told to camp outside Skyhold. So it's moving day.

It is a relatively flat and pretty utterly frozen piece of land outside Skyhold that the Wardens have found. Since there are only a couple dozen of them, they don't need a large space, at least. There's going to be a premium on slightly more elevated spots, so it's first come first serve. Some Wardens arrive with the sun and lay claim with canvas, stakes, ropes, and poles stacked up while they go back for heavier things. Digging into the frozen ground with the stakes is rough, especially for those who brought wooden stakes instead of iron. Some will be forced to wait until the sun softens things a bit. Some are chasing away the feeling of eviction by making themselves at home, starting fires in pits, or making light of their work through periodic bouts of horseplay. For example, one large longbowman with a wounded right arm, fed up with teasing for his inability to do heavy lifting, carries with his left arm a blond mage who hits him repeatedly with a pillow. Unperturbed, he continues on.

But when the tents are pitched and the sun is down, the cozy camp is a little less strange. People will gather around fires for warmth and companionship, knowing that after one sleep, this will start to feel like home.

Comments

[doneisdone]

"I don't know what else I'd expect from a place called Blackmarsh," Teren remarks with a smirk, "Fereldans do enjoy their evocative names." She leans against one of the barrels, wiping her brow. "The Fallow Mire. The Storm Coast. I suppose it's nice to know what you're getting beforehand."

[justice_is_blond]

"I'm holding out for Kitten Woods, or Cuddly Forest. Perhaps Pillow Hills. One day someone will take me somewhere nice. They have to. I've gone to all of the other places."

He takes a breath, leaning against a barrel as well. "The Oh Fuck Bears Woods, the Wounded Coast, The Bone Pits, the list goes on and on. I may be making up a name for the first one, but if you've been through the Hinterlands, you know what I mean. Have you been to anything with a good name?"

[doneisdone]

Teren chuckles, and it sounds genuine. "Let's see," she muses, "...well the Western Approach is a fairly neutral name, it's just a description of what it is. Miserable place, though."
"...in Nevarra we have the Silent Plains, but I've never been. I lived on the Waking Sea. What it was waking I've never really known, unless you count myself in a storm."

[justice_is_blond]

"The Silent Plains sounds nearly peaceful. Eerie, perhaps a little foreboding, but it may qualify as the best-sounding place I've heard of. I'll count it. Waking Sea, however, makes me think of the tales sailors tell of monsters in the deeps. Then again. I've often dreamed of living on the sea."

He looks a little wistful as he tilts his head toward the rest of the barrels and starts walking again.

"Small farm, a half-dozen cats, on the sea with the breeze. And someone else, of course. I'd not want to live alone. I've never enjoyed being alone."

[doneisdone]

"It's not quite as romantic as you make it out to be," Teren assures him, "mostly, it smells of fish. And a bad enough storm can take everything: your home, your livelihood, your loved ones. ...your cats." She glances at him, her expression oddly apologetic. Somehow implying the loss of one's hypothetical cats seems crueler than any of the other options.