"Of all the places in Ferelden for you to chose for us to live," Hawke spoke with a tinge of exasperation in her voice.
"What? Whats wrong with it, Hawke? Its the Brecellian Forest. Sure it lacks the brown you're so used to from Lothering but - that - Lothering isn't..."
"Its okay, Merrill. That was a long time ago, besides I'm not upset about the forest - itself. Just, ugh, nevermind."
"Just what? Its beautiful here. I grew up here with Mahariel and Tamlen. Sure its a bit spooky but so was Sundermount. Least they don't share the same spider problem."
"
SPIDERS, WHERE?! Oh... uhh, no. I meant the Tree, the Talking Tree, specifically I'm perturbed by the incessant rhyming that it does."
"Oh? I don't see whats wrong with it,
lethallin. It did compliment your armor."
"No, not a compliment, Merrill. It harassed me."
"'Watch the skies, I fear, for rust. So it not tarnish thy lovely bust.'" Merrill repeated in a sing-song manner.
"See, it oogled my - couplets."
Merrill stifled a giggle as she continued to setup their tent, "Hawke, make sure to unpack the rainskins so we don't wake up to a leaky tent."
"That damn tree is full of-"
A sudden peal of thunder rent the relative stillness of their meager camp.
"I'll get the skins."
Merrill turned and sweetly smiled up at the Champion, "Love you, too."
Modifié par Esbatty, 17 mai 2011 - 06:39 .