This was a decent dream. A pleasant one, despite the circumstances. He'd have been happier if the spirits that lingered in his little imaginary study hadn't been equally fabricated, but he would make do with what he had. The wisps flitted around the interior of his little tower, lighting the space with a slight emerald tint.
The wall was half-painted. The Dreamer mage in him was aware that he didn't need to do it by hand—if he wanted to see an image on the wall, he had only to imagine it. But he liked the act of applying plasters and outlines and then painting with a brush himself. It was half a mural of Skyhold as it sat in his memory. Proud, triumphant, and bright in swaths of almost every color he had. Most of the inner circle were represented in some fashion along the various shapes, with the exception of himself and the Inquisitor herself, though her outline was there. As for himself—the image of the wolf was hidden in among the details of the background, and not fully painted yet.
Not that anyone would need the painting to see it. The wolf was sprawled out across the center of the room, laying on his side. A massive, shaggy beast nearly the size of a high dragon and taking up the center of the room where the wolf statue had been a while ago. Six red-orange eyes watched the glittering surface of the Eluvian that served as a doorway into the studio, and his own face staring back at him.
That was, until the surface rippled. His ears perked, though he didn't move as the wisps of little spirits clustered around the mirror to welcome the newcomer to his tower. Had they lead someone here? He supposed he hadn't exactly been keeping a close eye on all of them.
@mirevasan