✩⋆ .THEIR KIND HAD A CERTAIN LOOK TO THEM / SOMETHING UNIVERSALLY ACCLAIMED; a wrinkle underneath tired eyes, the way posture spoke of some wretched urge to cower; walking two steps behind others, delicate / tip-toeing / hunched / small. She knew: it took one of the same ‘batch’ to find another; one’s capability for silent observation a gift, naturally. Despite it all, she must not pry, does not wager to even CONVERSE at first / saber cautiously ground with a perfectionist’s precision. HAWKE’s stance [his LEADER, nay?] on matters was clear. -- the Blight, the uprising, war. Battles in her bones, striving for something words could never properly describe; deeply etched into every sinew: she recalls glory, freedom & loss. ━ what about him?
“It is quite relieving to know I am not the only who still trusts in a sword.” cue a pause; posture sagging but a tad, as if to mimic, as if to find tranquility in the mere act of plain banter; tone strained yet MELLOWED / aye, shift in position making plate armor ring. “-- amidst all that magic and whatnot, I mean. ‘tis a bit too chaotic for my tastes.“