[ The reassurance seems to ease the knot that Lasulahn only now realizes had tangled in the pit of his stomach. He smiles easier for the thought, and confesses: ] It's nice to see her like that.
[ Able to turn his attentions more outward, the Inquisitor cannot help but notice Zevran's attire. His own is simple: a tunic and leggings, both form-fitting to his small frame, though muted in color and common in fabric, and a stole gathered about his shoulders. It's comfortable enough, neither too Dalish as to be seen as savage by the humans about, nor too human as to ignore his heritage. He misses wearing earring and flower in his hair, usually his choice adornments, but either were easily lost in battle, and marked him as too 'wild', besides.
He tries not to stare overmuch, lifting his gaze to Zevran's when the other's attention returns to him. ]
no subject
[ Able to turn his attentions more outward, the Inquisitor cannot help but notice Zevran's attire. His own is simple: a tunic and leggings, both form-fitting to his small frame, though muted in color and common in fabric, and a stole gathered about his shoulders. It's comfortable enough, neither too Dalish as to be seen as savage by the humans about, nor too human as to ignore his heritage. He misses wearing earring and flower in his hair, usually his choice adornments, but either were easily lost in battle, and marked him as too 'wild', besides.
He tries not to stare overmuch, lifting his gaze to Zevran's when the other's attention returns to him. ]
Just those of my clan.