[open] What’s a frog’s favorite type of shoes? Open toad sandals.

Not being a Grey Warden any more, at least by technicality, was a bit strange. Though he definitely continued to support them even if he no longer was since coming back from the dead. Thanks to Anders he found a new purpose though, within the Aerial Protectorate. He’d taken the position of Quartermaster, it sent him on a lot of errands, but he enjoyed the work.

Today he had a lot on his mind, there was still the question of Asha, the daughter he had no memories of, who was still missing. There was only so much he could do. Then there was his constant worries about his son Kieran in the lion’s den that was Orlais. Then the new daughter that he had, the little magical girl that had appeared after Morrigan performed the resurrection ritual on him and then followed him home.

As he walked around doing tasks, lost in thought, he wasn’t paying very good attention to where he was walking. He had his ledger and some letters tucked under his arm, so that when he accidentally ran into someone, the ledger fell to the ground and letters strewn about.

Sorry, my bad, I should have been paying better attention to where I was walking. He explained, feeling rather foolish for it.

She didn't like Fereldens... but sometimes, she needed to go into the nation to find her people. And sometimes her 'people' were not people at all, but animals. Like the little wolf cub that was snatched from her; she'd been tracking the poacher through Denerim, and all the way to Amaranthine.

When she bumped into someone else, and their ledger fell to the ground, she lost sight of the poacher and quietly cursed. But the stranger was apologizing and she bit her lip, kneeling down to start piling letters and ledgers back into a pile.

D'ya know where someone might sell a wolf cub?

Loghain paused, looking at the woman curiously. A wolf cub? That's not something you hear about every day, he said, arching an eyebrow. I can't say I do know, but I can help you look. He was quite the animal lover himself, though he generally went for the classic Mabari. He had his own back at home, Rowan, though she was getting up there in years.

He helped her gather up the remaining letters, his mind already shifting gears to think on where one might possibly sell a wolf cub in this area. I suppose we could start by asking some of the local merchants, he suggested, handing her the last of the scattered papers.

Daciana studied the man, snorting softly. Y'think the merchants are gonna admit to trespassin' on Wilder land? She rolled her eyes. It wasn't trespassing according to Ferelden law, but it sure as hell felt like it to Daciana.

Sure. Let's see who confesses.

Well, I find merchants are like rats—they'll scurry and hide rather than admit fault. We'll have to find a way to root them out, or trick them. I mean if they are trying to sell it, if we ask the right questions, we might find some answers. He explained, perhaps if they posed as rich buyers, though he wasn’t quite sure why he was suddenly feeling so helpful, but he did have a soft spot for animals.

Let’s walk around and look, you keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary, and I’ll see if anyone will talk to me. He couldn’t be sure it would be helpful, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to try.

@Daciana