The Fade looks different.
There's much less green, for starters. Really, Zevran can only remember bits and pieces of his time in the Fade, having never been given a chance to traverse it the way the Hero of Ferelden had. But he remembers green, and he remembers pain, and he remembers Crows. Other recruits much like himself, as mocking and ruthless and proud as he had once been. Their jeers had only made him all the more eager to prove his worth in blood. Maker, how he had once wanted to be an Antivan Crow so very badly. How he had once thought it an honor.
Now he finds himself jumping at shadows.
Thankfully this approximation of the dreaming world is cheerfully bereft of such demons. None that he can see, anyway.
( not yet )
When movement catches his eyes, however, he tenses. Turns.
"Anders."
Well. One less thing to worry about.
"Ah, but I am happy to see you are alright, amor."
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