( yes, good. you see, alistair has never been particularly inclined to become a meal. he’s almost been cooked, once! or twice. or more, if you consider all the time he’s spent with morrigan—zap, frog time. he’ll never know, and it’s just as well.

picky eater here, aren’t we? or drinker. ) Sure… acquired. ( to be fair, it kind of is. ) And here I was fondly reminiscing about the good ol’ days of darkspawn blood. Ahhh. ( when everything, oddly enough, seemed much simpler. he shrugs, biting into yet another hard piece of bread. ) I’ve seen hares hopping around, if you’d rather. But you’ll have to wait until morning. ( or whenever they’re free to leave the tent, anyway. )