The Recluse

So, where did you come from? he inquired, having assumed she was a circle mage given her control of the power she beckoned earlier. He assesses his mended wounds, appraising them with a twinkle in his eyes. Healing magic, I've always found it interesting how wounds close up in accordance with our will and power, he says later, rolling his eyes. Your work appears to be the most competent I've ever seen; you must have had a great teacher. In my personal experience healing it's not a a sought-after skill; most people just settle for making things explode. He stated, without trepidation, Jareth seemed to be extremely comfortable talking with Hawke up to this point. Though, given the state of the world, I can't blame them.

He sat up straight and continue to do what he does best: he probed. So you have high-ranking friends. It's unusual for mage to have ties with people of greater standing unless their blood runs in gold, a remark that implied more than he could realize. Still, he was unable to currently force a wise and proper persona, so he simply spoke. Perhaps it's the fact that she's also a mage that makes him feel at ease enough to speak his opinion without fear. But he forgets that the world isn't like the tower. I'm sorry, I hope I'm not being too nosy...

I just find you interesting, in a specific need to know who I am riding with kind of way. He checks himself and pauses for a time before continuing to speak, perhaps it is best I say nothing instead, he whispered to himself. Forcing a grin he looks aside before pinching his hand tightly for self-control. He was well aware that it was a very evident and quite harmful method to regulate one's own impulses, Um... do you know of anywhere I could lay down for a while? but it works. It's been a long journey, and the more exhausted I am, the less sense I make, he remarked, forcing a grin and a chuckle.