Two kittens had an argument. It was a cat-astrophe.

Ruth couldn’t help but stare at him. “You are in one of the most secretive orders in all of Thedas. I mean, everyone knows what you do. Adamant nonsense and all, but you lot are as bad as the Chantry with secrets. The elves at least have an excuse I suppose.” Persecution from the other races had driven his people into hiding or secrecy during the dark days of war, now some of them chose to be penned like livestock in the alienages. Ruth had always been clear, he would never live in such a place.

Experiments were temperamental and while Nathaniel openly admitted his fault in not being cautious, Ruth couldn’t quite blame him either. “Good, at least you’ve prepared yourself mentally,” his head nodded firmly.

Ruth stretched himself out, back arching and limbs cast out with catlike grace before he pulled himself onto his feet. Yawning, he’d eventually tuck his hands into the pockets of his robes. “Now that the maid or butler chaperone has been established, I’m pointing out that it won’t be me. Unless you’re heading in the direction of Arlathan, then you’ll be needing to find someone, or a party to accompany you the rest of your way.”