[Past] You, Me and a Pitcher of Cream

You’re friends Dalish too, she’d chuckle, He doesn’t stick around Kirkwall long though, at least that’s the vibe. Besides, it’s more fun being a misfit anyway. Snickering, Megara gestured to herself, her oddly cut clothes, the lopsided hat that hid the messy braids of chestnut curls. Never gonna lose the smell though, turning the bell of the pipe in her hands, one dalish thing I’ll def keep alive is this herb, too useful.

They’d wandered down another alley, out of sight of the main road and close to the doorway into the safehouse when he latched onto her mention of a reward, adding the caveat of his private rooms. Though of course, Meg’s first thought wasn’t on the obvious.

One hand on the handle, the other still supporting her pipe, the healer pursed her lips in thought, then grinned brightly, Um… Privacy’s good, means you can whip your shirt off and I can look at your arm proper.