" greetings. this is warden cousland. please leave your message and i'll reply as quickly as i can. if there's an emergency, leave your location as well. "
Oh- [ She begins, when he offers her a seat ('on the bed')- ] No, I really shouldn't stay, I-...
[ Except, she doesn't have anything pressing to return to, and even if she did, she wouldn't be more interested in it than revitalizing a friendship with him. That aside, she really is interested in hearing about the ancient Wardens, and so when she trails off, she just smiles almost sheepishly and shrugs as if to admit defeat. ]
You're pretty enough. [ Her mouth quirks at a smile, thinking of some moment during their quest when he'd mentioning putting on a dress and dancing for the late king. ] But I'll have to see Anders myself before I can make the final call.
[ Robyn hums in brief laughter, but she quiets when he starts talking. Her interest is obvious in her rapt attention, eyes widening slightly at the mention of the horns of the archdemon. ]
Can you imagine? Fighting a dragon on the back of a griffon-... [ The Warden sighs almost dreamily, lolling her head to one side. ] That is really the stuff of legends. And here we are - 'there' we are, I mean - trudging through every marsh in Ferelden without much by way of support. [ There's a derisive chuckle and a wry smile. ] I suppose the lives of Grey Wardens aren't as fanciful while you're living them.
[ She's about to ask him to go on when Oren, who'd returned to stuffed griffon toy, hears the sound of footsteps not far away. Still young-minded, the hound begins to bark, leaping to his feet and scrambling out of the door to chase down the source of the noise, likely to beg them for snacks. ]
Oren-! [ Robyn heaves another sigh, making fleeting eye contact with the other Warden before grudgingly getting to her feet. She moves to the half-chewed griffon and snatches it up. ]
I'll just... take this, then. [ She says, weakly. Then, she looks to the door, clearly not wanting to leave, but- ] I should... go after him. [ Then, she turns toward Alistair again with an apologetic smile. ] Can I hear the rest another time?
[Alistair brightens when she chooses to stay, gesturing for her to make herself comfortable.
And then bats his eyelashes at her.] You really think I'm pretty?
[Pretty or not, the topic of dresses is one best left alone. Much like Chantry robes, there are some things the world just isn't ready for. Although he may lose the competition either way since Anders, being a mage, already wears a dress and therefore must be prettier.]
Can you imagine flying on the back of a griffon? [He sits forward eagerly, as bright-eyed as Robyn herself.] It would make getting around a lot quicker. If you didn't fall off.
[Before they can get any further into stories or fanciful daydreams about griffon riding, Oren seems to decide they're being too boring for him. Alistair snorts and shakes his head as the mabari bounds off but can't hide his disappointment as Robyn is forced to give chase.]
Sure! [Was that too eager?] Whenever you like, just ask. I'll make some stories up so it sounds like I know what I'm talking about.
[Watching her go Alistair picks himself up so he can go back to sorting out the mess he's made. At least she took Oren's new chew toy. That's one less thing to worry about.]
action;
[ Except, she doesn't have anything pressing to return to, and even if she did, she wouldn't be more interested in it than revitalizing a friendship with him. That aside, she really is interested in hearing about the ancient Wardens, and so when she trails off, she just smiles almost sheepishly and shrugs as if to admit defeat. ]
You're pretty enough. [ Her mouth quirks at a smile, thinking of some moment during their quest when he'd mentioning putting on a dress and dancing for the late king. ] But I'll have to see Anders myself before I can make the final call.
[ Robyn hums in brief laughter, but she quiets when he starts talking. Her interest is obvious in her rapt attention, eyes widening slightly at the mention of the horns of the archdemon. ]
Can you imagine? Fighting a dragon on the back of a griffon-... [ The Warden sighs almost dreamily, lolling her head to one side. ] That is really the stuff of legends. And here we are - 'there' we are, I mean - trudging through every marsh in Ferelden without much by way of support. [ There's a derisive chuckle and a wry smile. ] I suppose the lives of Grey Wardens aren't as fanciful while you're living them.
[ She's about to ask him to go on when Oren, who'd returned to stuffed griffon toy, hears the sound of footsteps not far away. Still young-minded, the hound begins to bark, leaping to his feet and scrambling out of the door to chase down the source of the noise, likely to beg them for snacks. ]
Oren-! [ Robyn heaves another sigh, making fleeting eye contact with the other Warden before grudgingly getting to her feet. She moves to the half-chewed griffon and snatches it up. ]
I'll just... take this, then. [ She says, weakly. Then, she looks to the door, clearly not wanting to leave, but- ] I should... go after him. [ Then, she turns toward Alistair again with an apologetic smile. ] Can I hear the rest another time?
action;
And then bats his eyelashes at her.] You really think I'm pretty?
[Pretty or not, the topic of dresses is one best left alone. Much like Chantry robes, there are some things the world just isn't ready for. Although he may lose the competition either way since Anders, being a mage, already wears a dress and therefore must be prettier.]
Can you imagine flying on the back of a griffon? [He sits forward eagerly, as bright-eyed as Robyn herself.] It would make getting around a lot quicker. If you didn't fall off.
[Before they can get any further into stories or fanciful daydreams about griffon riding, Oren seems to decide they're being too boring for him. Alistair snorts and shakes his head as the mabari bounds off but can't hide his disappointment as Robyn is forced to give chase.]
Sure! [Was that too eager?] Whenever you like, just ask. I'll make some stories up so it sounds like I know what I'm talking about.
[Watching her go Alistair picks himself up so he can go back to sorting out the mess he's made. At least she took Oren's new chew toy. That's one less thing to worry about.]