@wolf-at-worlds-end || cont x
"It is also of the mossy stones that refuse to break or move," Raserei hummed seemingly lost in thought but listening all the same, "It also seems to be the color of rifts, interestingly enough. So tell me what has you pondering color? Are you thinking of becoming an artist when this is done?"
Kaaras chuckled softly as he looked to his hand. No, he wasn’t an artist. He couldn’t draw to save his life. He was pretty sure stick figures were even impossible for him. Writing was where he’d excelled when it came to anything creative.
“No, I was just... enjoying the view,” he smiled as they stood on a balcony of one of the inns. Ferelden was a beautiful place, or at least Kaaras thought so. The rolling hills and fields of farms that were covered in green, that stretched out to the forests and more dangerous places where beasts lurked.
“Sometimes it’s nice to remember the smaller things in life, the simple things. It allows us to appreciate it.” Or at least it did for Kaaras. He knew not everyone shared the same views as he did. Taking a step back from being the Inquisitor was a good reminder of his humble roots, though.
“The way the tips of the fields turn gold when the sun reaches them... Don’t you think that they are beautiful?”












