...all my flowers are dead

His brow arched when she questioned him. Maybe the names they gave their enemies to tell them apart weren't so widely known as they were in Ferelden. But that was as much as he would speculate of another warden with danger so close at hand. He nodded as he followed her line of sight towards the loitering hurlocks, their hulking forms unmistakable. Aye

At that he drew his sword from it's sheath silently and moved through the grass. It was possible for the time being for them to sneak over the ridge unspotted. No sooner had he taking a step in their direction, then he saw them alert to their presence. A warrior calm washed over him. Care to have some fun Warden? If they obtained the flower and it was possible to make the poison they needed for their blades, perhaps some experimentation was at hand.