@nessusaryevil
There are so many hurting here. More even than Haven, than Skyhold, where refugees came and many had died, had lost, had ached inside.
Here there are those that are like that, but for some it goes deeper - they’re hollow inside, or jagged, shards of the self piercing each other and digging into the soul itself.
It’s one of those he’s watching, now, from his spot curled up between the branches of a cherry tree, one hand trailing through the blossoms. This hurt winds around and through, a shallow layer lying (and lying) on top of it, keeping it hidden. Even Cole can’t follow it all the way to its end - it’s too tangled, goes too deep, and he’s afraid of what would happen if he tugged it without asking, without care.
“It wasn’t right,” he says when the man-cat comes into earshot, “what they did to you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry they took a part of you away, and put in a way to make you do what they wanted instead. I saw that happen to someone, once. I think I’m scared it will happen to me.
“Do you want to sit up here?” He pats a space that would fit, his legs dangling in the air. “The tree is stronger than it looks. The ones in charge did something to it, I think, but it doesn’t mind. It likes being strong.”