When Vesryn finally stirred, it was as though nothing had changed.
And yet, everything had changed. It had been a very long time since he'd been reminded of his own mortality. Reminded that even Saraya was fallible, and not without fears. She was more withdrawn than she'd ever been when he came to, not eager to share her feelings with him anymore. He could understand that. At least, he thought he did. In the Fade he had been witness to her greatest fear, something truly damaging from her past, ages ago, that still haunted her to the present. Something unresolved, he expected. And how could it ever be resolved, with so much time having passed?
But whatever it was, it was private. Saraya had not seen fit to educate him on it in their years together, despite the ample opportunities to try. Who and what she was remained a mystery Vesryn could not crack, and he had little chance of it without her help. His instinct was not to search. Not if it was Nightmare that wanted him to know. Some things were probably better left buried.
His own feelings were among them. Estella had been present when he came to, and made for a pleasant first sight despite how ragged she'd obviously run herself watching over her wounded friends. Vesryn imagined his collapse had been worrying; it had not been from his wounds but rather Saraya's return that had caused him to fall after leaving the rift, and by those wounds he should've woken a day earlier at least. Another reminder that his mind was a fragile thing. He carried an ancient life in a glass box.
Vesryn did not speak much after waking, an unusual turn for him. He assured Estella he was alright, that Saraya was as well. It's the same as it was before the battle, he said, and left it at that. It was impossible to keep the disappointment from his tone. Her scream was an echo in the back of his mind, and it wouldn't go away. He couldn't even remember the words she said, to have them translated. Just the tone of her agony, mixed with his own. He found himself not wanting company, a mood which carried on for a few days.
The Warden keep they occupied settled down over those few days, as the most grievously injured resolved their situations one way or another, and the emotional highs of the battle's immediate aftermath faded away. Vesryn kept mostly to himself, thinking and patiently hoping for some kind of helpful response from Saraya. It would not come, the ever present barrier between them still firmly in place. There was little else to do but wait, and presently he found himself seated on the ground against a wall, near the main doors of Griffon Wing Keep's central structure. He'd recovered a pipe from an Inquisition soldier that... no longer required it, and found that a bit of smoking relaxed his nerves. It was a habit many in his old mercenary company had taken up, but Vesryn had never felt the need to before.
“I do wish I hadn't left mine behind at Skyhold, or I'd ask to join you." The voice, laconic and slightly wry, belonged unmistakably to Cyrus. He'd finally been given leave to resume light activity the other day, not that there was much to do. The Inquisition seemed to be running its current activities just fine without their intervention, for now.
He paused a few feet from Vesryn, folding his hands behind his unarmored back and tilting his head slightly. “Up to company? I do believe Stellulam is intent on asking you to take a little walk with us this afternoon. Something about the water supply. Mostly I think she wants to make sure we're not driving ourselves mad." His face shifted; it was clear he'd used the last phrase intentionally, and with at least some understanding of what it might uniquely mean for Vesryn.
“But if you aren't inclined to it, I can make your excuses for you. It's rather easier to say no to me than to her, I should expect."
Vesryn coughed softly, the sudden desire to exhale a soft laugh tricking him into inhaling rather too much first, and he lowered the pipe. "You're quite right about that." He twisted his lips slightly in thought, debating internally on if he wanted to go or not. His body hadn't seen much use since it had been healed, that much was true. As for Estella's intentions, or rather what Cyrus expected of them, he wasn't sure if talking would help him stay sane, or just drive him further from it. There were things he'd yet to come to any kind of terms with, some things he didn't feel ready to speak about.
But the details, at least, of what had happened and what his current state were, could be relayed clearly enough. And in his desire to examine his own mind, he had shamefully neglected to offer any support for Estella's, or Cyrus's for that matter. Estella had many friends, of course, but he liked to consider himself one of the more valuable of those. And Cyrus had fewer friends, a group which Vesryn had only recently considered himself a member.
"Very well, then," he concluded, getting to his feet and grabbing his spear, which had been within reach. His other gear was stored elsewhere, but a weapon that doubled as a walking stick never hurt. "Probably past time I got myself moving, anyhow."
Cyrus smiled. “Excellent. I'm sure she'll be by presently."
His estimate turned out to be correct; it wasn't more than another couple of minutes before they spotted Estella. She appeared to be searching for something—likely for them, if her reaction was anything to go by upon finding them. She smiled a bit and padded over.
“There you are." She glanced between them a moment, then shrugged and let her eyes settle on Vesryn. “Has Cy already invited you? We're going down to the river—it seems the well's been contaminated, so Leon asked me to see if the river was good enough to use. Or, well... I volunteered, more accurately. He said he preferred it if I had company while I did." She sounded a tad sheepish, perhaps recalling the last time she'd wandered off on her own.
"It's no surprise, really, considering what we found in that well coming up," Vesryn reminded. Large, nasty spiders milling about underneath the fort tended to have a negative effect on things like its water supply. He didn't really want to think about how. "And your choice of company is excellent as always. Shall we?" His typical amount of pomp was a bit subdued, diminished, but it would've been downright criminal for him to not make the attempt. He did endeavor to be pleasant company for her, after all, especially when he expected she might be in need of it. He'd been too lax in those efforts the last few days.
"Shall we?"
They were soon setting out, heading east from Griffon Wing Keep and winding down into a ravine as soon as they were able. The scars in the earth cut all through the Western Approach, and while they occasionally ran the risk of sand drifting down onto their heads or the odd falling rock or pebble, Vesryn deemed it preferable to being out in the open, with the wind whipping in their faces and drying them to the bone. Down lower the shade was often quite comfortable, and Vesryn did not need to even bother with the hood of his cloak.
The river was some distance, however. It would be inconvenient for a force as large as the Inquisition's to make use of it so long while located at the Warden fort, but Vesryn suspected they wouldn't be remaining for much longer. Only long enough to ensure the area was secured and establish a support structure for the garrison they would undoubtedly be leaving behind.
"I trust both of you are healing well?" Vesryn asked, breaking up the silence.
“Well, I think I'm almost back to an ordinary amount of blood in my body, so that's certainly helpful." Cyrus's reply was droll as ever, which was probably a more reliable indicator of the truth than his words. He was walking a bit more carefully than usual, though, more deliberate about where he placed his feet. He was also looking around more than he usually did, observing their surroundings with a sort of dim interest.
Estella snorted softly at her brother's response, hopping a bit to cross from one section of the ravine trail to another on the same level, rather than descending only to ascend again a few paces later. The ground was uneven like that in many places, making the going a bit slower than it would have been otherwise. “I'm fine; thank you for asking." She hadn't wound up nearly so injured as some of the rest of them in their journey through the Fade, but knowing her, that was as likely to bother her as lingering wounds would have been.
“I know you said the connection with Saraya's back to normal, but is she... holding up okay? Are you all right?"
It was a far more complex question than the one he'd asked, and a reply of I'm fine in return would have been entirely insincere. She deserved better than that, they both did, but Vesryn wasn't sure there were any words to properly explain it. "It's... hard to say." As though that wasn't obvious. He thumped the butt of his spear into the ground a little harder for the next step. "I'd never encountered anything before that knew to attack us directly in that way. Everything feels normal, and yet..." He stopped, taking the spear in both hands and leaning on it a little.
"It's like... like walking into a room you left only minutes earlier. You know the room well, but while you were away, some inconsiderate and insidious villain picked up a small object in the room, and moved it somewhere else. The privacy has been violated, but for the life of you, you can't figure out what about the room is different. Without knowing that, you can't put it back to normal." He shook his head, assuming he was speaking nonsense, and carried on ahead. "Foolish metaphor aside, the Nightmare did something, but I have no idea what. I suspect Saraya knows, but these things take us years to work out normally. And she's been rather mum about a lot of things of late."
A small flash of annoyance rushed into his head, but it was weak, and soon subsided. Vesryn could guess what that meant. She had no right to be annoyed with him, and she knew it. And yet still she made herself scarce.
"What we saw in the Fade, before we regrouped," Vesryn said, rather quieter. "It greatly disturbed her."
Estella frowned, but then her eyes moved to her brother. They lingered a moment before she diverted them to Vesryn. “I haven't told anyone what that was," she said, voice soft. “If you don't want to explain it, that's fine, but if anyone can help..." The end of the sentence was obvious even though it went unsaid.
Vesryn halted again, this time settling his back against the wall of the ravine, letting the spear rest against his shoulder. "I'm not even sure it should be explored." Nightmare seemed to believe it could easily undermine Vesryn's own faith in her, and with how real the fear he felt was... was it right? Vesryn had to believe it was worth the risk. To ensure that nothing harmful had been done to him, to her. He didn't care to pry where he wasn't wanted, into things that held no meaning anymore, whatever they were. "Very well. After Estella and I found each other, Nightmare led us to a field."
There was no point beginning any earlier than that. As far as Vesryn was concerned that was between him and Estella, and would remain that way. "It was a marsh of some sort, but then, much of its domain was that way. The field was littered with the bodies of ancient elves, elves that Saraya recognized to the last. Even after all this time she knew their faces. Or perhaps seeing them again refreshed her memory. There was nothing we could do but cross the field, spring the trap that Nightmare set for us." He could feel Saraya shrinking away at the recollection of it, but Vesryn was glad for that. Her emotions were muted here compared to the Fade for some reason, and he really wasn't feeling like experiencing that kind of grief again.
"The bodies began to reanimate and attack us. We were holding them off well enough, until... until Nightmare spoke to me. 'Even in your mind, she is still restrained,' it said. Bound by ancient magic that transferal into my body and mind did not undo. He offered to weaken those bonds. I don't know if it was real or imagined, but it felt like my mind was tearing itself apart from the inside after that. I fell. I may have been dying, I don't know." He had to believe that level of physical pain would have caused even the toughest person to lose consciousness, but in the Fade it had refused to release him. "I heard her voice. She screamed in my head, babbled words I couldn't understand. I told her to withdraw, because I felt I would die otherwise. And she did."
He sighed heavily. The echoes of her scream grew louder in his mind, a sound he could not forget. "Estella got me out of there, and we found you. Saraya remained withdrawn until we were out of the Fade. I wish it could've been otherwise, we might've—" He cut himself off. He was not willing to say that just yet, and it was another issue besides. Irrelevant, now that Saraya had returned. "Her return was abrupt, and combined with my injuries, kept me out for that long. And that's the story."
Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest, expression thoughtful. He was generally easier to read than his sister, whatever the reason. “If that's the case, I think the instinct you've had to strengthen the connection might be ill-advised." His lips thinned; he shook his head and started forward again. “It seems better to try and focus on keeping it stable. You've been at an equilibrium, it seems. If what Nightmare did is any clue, tipping that balance in either direction could have... unwelcome consequences."
“I suppose she is not particularly eager for you to discern why she recognized an entire field of dead people, so I'll hold off on the historical investigation, if you prefer. But if I'm wrong, do feel free to say so."
With Cyrus taking the lead, Vesryn was content for once to follow. It wasn't like they were expecting any more Venatori here, and he didn't have his shield besides. "Seems obvious enough to me, if Saraya was witness to the fall of her people." He couldn't even begin to imagine such a thing. Friends and family that had accompanied her for years beyond counting, torn away in great numbers by an unrelenting enemy. The entire civilization crumbling. Saraya was a warrior, and undoubtedly fought alongside many others. It seemed more than reasonable to Vesryn to think that Saraya felt she failed them. That guilt, that remorse. To be the survivor, even only in a sense, when so many others were not able to linger. To be unable to protect them.
That was something Vesryn could feel quite keenly all on his own.
"Thank you for listening, at any rate." The thanks were wholly unnecessary at this point, he knew, but they could be given anyway. He wasn't sure what he wanted, or intended, to do about the situation. If indeed anything should be done at all. He was still fumbling in the dark with Saraya, and while it was never easy, perhaps it was safest that way.
Cyrus glanced back for a second at that. “Let me know if anything changes." He seemed content to drop the subject for the moment, however, and resumed his path forward.
They carried on until the ravine opened wider, and the sound of steadily flowing water disrupted the steady moan of the wind blowing over the sands. The river was a very welcome sight, and naturally brought with it the sparse few greens there were to see in the Western Approach. It was moving fairly quickly, too, which was good. "This water should be much better than the spider-baths," Vesryn declared easily enough. "Although..." He turned and studied the ground. "Varghest tracks here, quite a few. We'd better advise the troops to come with backup until they're cleared out. We'd also best not linger, unless we're hoping for a fight in addition to our lovely walk."
“Might be better to avoid," Estella agreed easily. There were plenty of healthier Inquisition soldiers who could take care of this, as long as they were forewarned.
Even having said so, though, she stalled for a while on the bank of the river, leaning over slightly as if to peer as far down its course as possible. “It always surprises me to find a river in a desert. And I've been to a lot of deserts by this point." Landing back on her heels, she turned away from it. “Shame the scenery could be ruined at any moment, I suppose. Shall we?"
At any moment. Vesryn exhaled quietly, and then smiled. "Let's."
And yet, everything had changed. It had been a very long time since he'd been reminded of his own mortality. Reminded that even Saraya was fallible, and not without fears. She was more withdrawn than she'd ever been when he came to, not eager to share her feelings with him anymore. He could understand that. At least, he thought he did. In the Fade he had been witness to her greatest fear, something truly damaging from her past, ages ago, that still haunted her to the present. Something unresolved, he expected. And how could it ever be resolved, with so much time having passed?
But whatever it was, it was private. Saraya had not seen fit to educate him on it in their years together, despite the ample opportunities to try. Who and what she was remained a mystery Vesryn could not crack, and he had little chance of it without her help. His instinct was not to search. Not if it was Nightmare that wanted him to know. Some things were probably better left buried.
His own feelings were among them. Estella had been present when he came to, and made for a pleasant first sight despite how ragged she'd obviously run herself watching over her wounded friends. Vesryn imagined his collapse had been worrying; it had not been from his wounds but rather Saraya's return that had caused him to fall after leaving the rift, and by those wounds he should've woken a day earlier at least. Another reminder that his mind was a fragile thing. He carried an ancient life in a glass box.
Vesryn did not speak much after waking, an unusual turn for him. He assured Estella he was alright, that Saraya was as well. It's the same as it was before the battle, he said, and left it at that. It was impossible to keep the disappointment from his tone. Her scream was an echo in the back of his mind, and it wouldn't go away. He couldn't even remember the words she said, to have them translated. Just the tone of her agony, mixed with his own. He found himself not wanting company, a mood which carried on for a few days.
The Warden keep they occupied settled down over those few days, as the most grievously injured resolved their situations one way or another, and the emotional highs of the battle's immediate aftermath faded away. Vesryn kept mostly to himself, thinking and patiently hoping for some kind of helpful response from Saraya. It would not come, the ever present barrier between them still firmly in place. There was little else to do but wait, and presently he found himself seated on the ground against a wall, near the main doors of Griffon Wing Keep's central structure. He'd recovered a pipe from an Inquisition soldier that... no longer required it, and found that a bit of smoking relaxed his nerves. It was a habit many in his old mercenary company had taken up, but Vesryn had never felt the need to before.
“I do wish I hadn't left mine behind at Skyhold, or I'd ask to join you." The voice, laconic and slightly wry, belonged unmistakably to Cyrus. He'd finally been given leave to resume light activity the other day, not that there was much to do. The Inquisition seemed to be running its current activities just fine without their intervention, for now.
He paused a few feet from Vesryn, folding his hands behind his unarmored back and tilting his head slightly. “Up to company? I do believe Stellulam is intent on asking you to take a little walk with us this afternoon. Something about the water supply. Mostly I think she wants to make sure we're not driving ourselves mad." His face shifted; it was clear he'd used the last phrase intentionally, and with at least some understanding of what it might uniquely mean for Vesryn.
“But if you aren't inclined to it, I can make your excuses for you. It's rather easier to say no to me than to her, I should expect."
Vesryn coughed softly, the sudden desire to exhale a soft laugh tricking him into inhaling rather too much first, and he lowered the pipe. "You're quite right about that." He twisted his lips slightly in thought, debating internally on if he wanted to go or not. His body hadn't seen much use since it had been healed, that much was true. As for Estella's intentions, or rather what Cyrus expected of them, he wasn't sure if talking would help him stay sane, or just drive him further from it. There were things he'd yet to come to any kind of terms with, some things he didn't feel ready to speak about.
But the details, at least, of what had happened and what his current state were, could be relayed clearly enough. And in his desire to examine his own mind, he had shamefully neglected to offer any support for Estella's, or Cyrus's for that matter. Estella had many friends, of course, but he liked to consider himself one of the more valuable of those. And Cyrus had fewer friends, a group which Vesryn had only recently considered himself a member.
"Very well, then," he concluded, getting to his feet and grabbing his spear, which had been within reach. His other gear was stored elsewhere, but a weapon that doubled as a walking stick never hurt. "Probably past time I got myself moving, anyhow."
Cyrus smiled. “Excellent. I'm sure she'll be by presently."
His estimate turned out to be correct; it wasn't more than another couple of minutes before they spotted Estella. She appeared to be searching for something—likely for them, if her reaction was anything to go by upon finding them. She smiled a bit and padded over.
“There you are." She glanced between them a moment, then shrugged and let her eyes settle on Vesryn. “Has Cy already invited you? We're going down to the river—it seems the well's been contaminated, so Leon asked me to see if the river was good enough to use. Or, well... I volunteered, more accurately. He said he preferred it if I had company while I did." She sounded a tad sheepish, perhaps recalling the last time she'd wandered off on her own.
"It's no surprise, really, considering what we found in that well coming up," Vesryn reminded. Large, nasty spiders milling about underneath the fort tended to have a negative effect on things like its water supply. He didn't really want to think about how. "And your choice of company is excellent as always. Shall we?" His typical amount of pomp was a bit subdued, diminished, but it would've been downright criminal for him to not make the attempt. He did endeavor to be pleasant company for her, after all, especially when he expected she might be in need of it. He'd been too lax in those efforts the last few days.
"Shall we?"
They were soon setting out, heading east from Griffon Wing Keep and winding down into a ravine as soon as they were able. The scars in the earth cut all through the Western Approach, and while they occasionally ran the risk of sand drifting down onto their heads or the odd falling rock or pebble, Vesryn deemed it preferable to being out in the open, with the wind whipping in their faces and drying them to the bone. Down lower the shade was often quite comfortable, and Vesryn did not need to even bother with the hood of his cloak.
The river was some distance, however. It would be inconvenient for a force as large as the Inquisition's to make use of it so long while located at the Warden fort, but Vesryn suspected they wouldn't be remaining for much longer. Only long enough to ensure the area was secured and establish a support structure for the garrison they would undoubtedly be leaving behind.
"I trust both of you are healing well?" Vesryn asked, breaking up the silence.
“Well, I think I'm almost back to an ordinary amount of blood in my body, so that's certainly helpful." Cyrus's reply was droll as ever, which was probably a more reliable indicator of the truth than his words. He was walking a bit more carefully than usual, though, more deliberate about where he placed his feet. He was also looking around more than he usually did, observing their surroundings with a sort of dim interest.
Estella snorted softly at her brother's response, hopping a bit to cross from one section of the ravine trail to another on the same level, rather than descending only to ascend again a few paces later. The ground was uneven like that in many places, making the going a bit slower than it would have been otherwise. “I'm fine; thank you for asking." She hadn't wound up nearly so injured as some of the rest of them in their journey through the Fade, but knowing her, that was as likely to bother her as lingering wounds would have been.
“I know you said the connection with Saraya's back to normal, but is she... holding up okay? Are you all right?"
It was a far more complex question than the one he'd asked, and a reply of I'm fine in return would have been entirely insincere. She deserved better than that, they both did, but Vesryn wasn't sure there were any words to properly explain it. "It's... hard to say." As though that wasn't obvious. He thumped the butt of his spear into the ground a little harder for the next step. "I'd never encountered anything before that knew to attack us directly in that way. Everything feels normal, and yet..." He stopped, taking the spear in both hands and leaning on it a little.
"It's like... like walking into a room you left only minutes earlier. You know the room well, but while you were away, some inconsiderate and insidious villain picked up a small object in the room, and moved it somewhere else. The privacy has been violated, but for the life of you, you can't figure out what about the room is different. Without knowing that, you can't put it back to normal." He shook his head, assuming he was speaking nonsense, and carried on ahead. "Foolish metaphor aside, the Nightmare did something, but I have no idea what. I suspect Saraya knows, but these things take us years to work out normally. And she's been rather mum about a lot of things of late."
A small flash of annoyance rushed into his head, but it was weak, and soon subsided. Vesryn could guess what that meant. She had no right to be annoyed with him, and she knew it. And yet still she made herself scarce.
"What we saw in the Fade, before we regrouped," Vesryn said, rather quieter. "It greatly disturbed her."
Estella frowned, but then her eyes moved to her brother. They lingered a moment before she diverted them to Vesryn. “I haven't told anyone what that was," she said, voice soft. “If you don't want to explain it, that's fine, but if anyone can help..." The end of the sentence was obvious even though it went unsaid.
Vesryn halted again, this time settling his back against the wall of the ravine, letting the spear rest against his shoulder. "I'm not even sure it should be explored." Nightmare seemed to believe it could easily undermine Vesryn's own faith in her, and with how real the fear he felt was... was it right? Vesryn had to believe it was worth the risk. To ensure that nothing harmful had been done to him, to her. He didn't care to pry where he wasn't wanted, into things that held no meaning anymore, whatever they were. "Very well. After Estella and I found each other, Nightmare led us to a field."
There was no point beginning any earlier than that. As far as Vesryn was concerned that was between him and Estella, and would remain that way. "It was a marsh of some sort, but then, much of its domain was that way. The field was littered with the bodies of ancient elves, elves that Saraya recognized to the last. Even after all this time she knew their faces. Or perhaps seeing them again refreshed her memory. There was nothing we could do but cross the field, spring the trap that Nightmare set for us." He could feel Saraya shrinking away at the recollection of it, but Vesryn was glad for that. Her emotions were muted here compared to the Fade for some reason, and he really wasn't feeling like experiencing that kind of grief again.
"The bodies began to reanimate and attack us. We were holding them off well enough, until... until Nightmare spoke to me. 'Even in your mind, she is still restrained,' it said. Bound by ancient magic that transferal into my body and mind did not undo. He offered to weaken those bonds. I don't know if it was real or imagined, but it felt like my mind was tearing itself apart from the inside after that. I fell. I may have been dying, I don't know." He had to believe that level of physical pain would have caused even the toughest person to lose consciousness, but in the Fade it had refused to release him. "I heard her voice. She screamed in my head, babbled words I couldn't understand. I told her to withdraw, because I felt I would die otherwise. And she did."
He sighed heavily. The echoes of her scream grew louder in his mind, a sound he could not forget. "Estella got me out of there, and we found you. Saraya remained withdrawn until we were out of the Fade. I wish it could've been otherwise, we might've—" He cut himself off. He was not willing to say that just yet, and it was another issue besides. Irrelevant, now that Saraya had returned. "Her return was abrupt, and combined with my injuries, kept me out for that long. And that's the story."
Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest, expression thoughtful. He was generally easier to read than his sister, whatever the reason. “If that's the case, I think the instinct you've had to strengthen the connection might be ill-advised." His lips thinned; he shook his head and started forward again. “It seems better to try and focus on keeping it stable. You've been at an equilibrium, it seems. If what Nightmare did is any clue, tipping that balance in either direction could have... unwelcome consequences."
“I suppose she is not particularly eager for you to discern why she recognized an entire field of dead people, so I'll hold off on the historical investigation, if you prefer. But if I'm wrong, do feel free to say so."
With Cyrus taking the lead, Vesryn was content for once to follow. It wasn't like they were expecting any more Venatori here, and he didn't have his shield besides. "Seems obvious enough to me, if Saraya was witness to the fall of her people." He couldn't even begin to imagine such a thing. Friends and family that had accompanied her for years beyond counting, torn away in great numbers by an unrelenting enemy. The entire civilization crumbling. Saraya was a warrior, and undoubtedly fought alongside many others. It seemed more than reasonable to Vesryn to think that Saraya felt she failed them. That guilt, that remorse. To be the survivor, even only in a sense, when so many others were not able to linger. To be unable to protect them.
That was something Vesryn could feel quite keenly all on his own.
"Thank you for listening, at any rate." The thanks were wholly unnecessary at this point, he knew, but they could be given anyway. He wasn't sure what he wanted, or intended, to do about the situation. If indeed anything should be done at all. He was still fumbling in the dark with Saraya, and while it was never easy, perhaps it was safest that way.
Cyrus glanced back for a second at that. “Let me know if anything changes." He seemed content to drop the subject for the moment, however, and resumed his path forward.
They carried on until the ravine opened wider, and the sound of steadily flowing water disrupted the steady moan of the wind blowing over the sands. The river was a very welcome sight, and naturally brought with it the sparse few greens there were to see in the Western Approach. It was moving fairly quickly, too, which was good. "This water should be much better than the spider-baths," Vesryn declared easily enough. "Although..." He turned and studied the ground. "Varghest tracks here, quite a few. We'd better advise the troops to come with backup until they're cleared out. We'd also best not linger, unless we're hoping for a fight in addition to our lovely walk."
“Might be better to avoid," Estella agreed easily. There were plenty of healthier Inquisition soldiers who could take care of this, as long as they were forewarned.
Even having said so, though, she stalled for a while on the bank of the river, leaning over slightly as if to peer as far down its course as possible. “It always surprises me to find a river in a desert. And I've been to a lot of deserts by this point." Landing back on her heels, she turned away from it. “Shame the scenery could be ruined at any moment, I suppose. Shall we?"
At any moment. Vesryn exhaled quietly, and then smiled. "Let's."