#hobolaidd

[wolf-eyes-wolf-soul]

That was an unfortunate truth. The world seemed perpetually ready to fall into some new kind of chaos. She had been a teenager when the Blight had struck and then she had thought that perhaps that would be the worst thing she would ever see. Now, however, she was older and hopefully a bit wiser and knew that tragedy was always just a step away.

"Movran always claimed that I must have wolf blood in my veins. I have the eyes of a predator that stalks in the night." She said with a huff of humourless laughter. "Maybe it was something from the Land of Dreams that touched me. I have some magic but I don't think its anything compared to lowlander mages."

It had also been nearly entirely self-taught. Morren had simply allowed her instincts to guide her alongside considerable trial and error. She could make the earth shift and grow thorns and other plants. Useful to have magic which called to the earth, it helped her survive and hone her other skills. She was proud of what she could do even if it was not as much as these lowlanders with their sticks and fancy flourishes.

"Yes. I made an oath to lend my strengths as they are. Until I'm no longer wanted, I will be here doing what I can." Her gaze flitted to him "You said you were the same? Perhaps we will work together sometime."

Her heart held out a tentative hope, perhaps she could build bonds here that she never had before. Maybe this elf - Solas - would be one of them.

“And ‘Thane’ is your clan leader,” he confirmed. “It is no easy thing to be ostracized for that which you cannot control. Between this war, the Blight, and the myriad other tragedies that have befallen this land, I am certain there are many parentless children.”

He would not offer pity, because he sensed that would be unwelcome. Understanding, certainly, but not pity. 

“In my travels,” he began, “I have met many with physical characteristics not considered ‘normal.’ Some are due to a connection to the Fade, a spirit, or something unnameable. Others simply a byproduct of birth. It is relatively meaningless, as all superstition is, but imagine that’s a cold comfort.”

He patted the horse on the side of its neck, grateful that they weren’t skittish with him. One could never tell how a beast would react, though it had been millennia since he was ever a thing but a tired old elf. “What will you do now, that you remain with the Inquisition? I'm certain your unique skills would be appreciated."

[abitterveteran]

[text]:I know you saw me get knocked out after I stepped on that rake why did you leave me there

[txt: not maric’s type] You’re an intelligent gentleman, I assume you’d be                                         able to relate. [txt: not maric’s type] For instance: you know that feeling when you put a                                         little bit of faith in someone, but they turn around and do                                         or say something stupid that makes you regret it?[txt: not maric’s type] Think about that the next time you sigh or make jeers at                                        my company of men, or make comments about the                                         Wardens.[txt: not maric’s type] And then imagine why watching you make an absolute                                        ass of yourself was the most morale-boosting event known                                        to Grey Warden history.

[dirtyhandsandminds]

Head, shoulders, knees and toes. Knees and toes.

((Bees? and toes.))

Head: THIS DOESNT EXIST KAREN

Shoulders: SCREAMS

Knees: Have you ever cheated on someone?

No. I mean, maybe. I’ve only really had one real girlfriend. The rest were just flings. Couple week things that no one was expecting real commitment out of. So, maybe. I guess you’d have to ask the lady if she thought it was cheating.

Toes: YELLING

[cxmmandare-blog]

hoboblaidd Cullen slaps a hand over his forehead and proceeds to drag it down his face; a low groan resonates from the back of his throat.

[wherethewxndtakesme]

hoboblaidd replied to your post:….

GREATLY DISAPPROVES

solas there was a big scary spider thing and some spirit lady I brought you back this rock

[sulahnnan]

hoboblaidd replied to your post:

and literally on this list are my top quality blog picks how dare you

where the shit did u come from tho

[sulahnnan]

hoboblaidd replied to your post:

ikr bae?? lets go for a drink B]

yes, pls. a fine solution

[sulahnnan]

               "Indeed. And this is brought to my attention for what reason, Solas?"

Careful now. “‘Spirited’ is a word I might use.”

[sulahnnan]

Heretic’s Fork, asking for a friend

Heretic’s Fork: Is there something your muse will never confess to?

                         Certainly. Being a creature of pride as the Dalish often are, there are                          many things she’ll keep buried or will refrain from admitting. Even under                          certain circumstances or pressures, she’d rather suffer the consequences                          no matter how grave they may be than betray herself.

[sulahnnan]

hoboblaidd replied to your post:

so how’s your evening going

DON'T FUCKIN TALK TO ME DONT EVEN LOOK AT ME

[abitterveteran]

hobolaidd

{ ♕ }    "I am not the religious sort," he began after a time, chapped lips parting                 to speak upon the comparisons within his own mind. "--nor am I placing                 you under any sort of elven stereotype, but your resemblance of the                 famed Shartan is uncanny."

[wolf-eyes-wolf-soul]

She listened quietly but attentively, her fingers reaching out to tangle in the mare's mane as she stroked her. There was much she didn't know, she now realised. Elves apparently were more than the rumours of tattooed shadows who spoke a strange tongue and occasionally clashed with the hunters of the clan.

But he was different. In that they were kindred spirits, she supposed. Outsiders amongst what should be their own kind. Perhaps she was reading too much into it.

There was no use in hiding it, Morren supposed, not when she had been asked so directly. Trying to skirt around the issue would just look suspicious. Was this some sort of test? If she could answer honestly, or honest enough for their liking, then they could be sure she wasn't some kind of spy?

"I was a foundling and have no direct blood ties to my former clan. I don't remember what happened to my actual family. I was just found wandering alone. Movran's father was Thane when that happened but he died when I was still young. Movran was a different man than him. He said I was cursed because how else would a young child end up on her own with no kin or clan? My eyes didn't help."

Golden yellow was such an unusual colour. Not natural, or so Movran claimed. It unnerved people to look her in the face and probably would even if the Thane wasn't set against any outside influences. Wolfish, that's what some whispered. A wolf amongst sheep waiting to tear into their bellies when they least suspected.

"A culture based on honor," he said. "Admirable, though potentially in conflict with those that are not. But survival is no easy thing. Sometimes to die is...simpler, than to be the only one left."

He busied himself for a moment with the horse, carefully extricating a spider from a mane too ragged given the presence of a horsemaster. "If I may," he said, at last circling back to the question he'd wanted to ask. "Why were you considered a burden on your clan? You do not seem to be so to the Inquisition. Indeed, a fresh perspective outside of Chantry dogma is most welcome to those of us who don't sing Andraste's song three time per day."

But her question was met with relief. It was one he'd answered many times since Haven, and it was as true as it was practiced. "Some elves do," he said. "Those that live in the wilds outside of human control travel in insular clans. Others, like the unfortunates in the southern cities, live in alienages as part of an extended family of shared circumstance. I am neither. I have tended to travel alone. In my experience, it is easier for one to escape prying eyes than a large group. And for my part, this Breach and its rifts threaten the Fade. I cannot simply disappear to hide while that threat remains. Nor would I bury my head in the sand and pretend there is no world outside my clan as the Dalish do. I'll return to my life when this is done, if we're all still alive."

[wolf-eyes-wolf-soul]

"That was the reasoning, yes." She nodded. It was a simplistic view of their religion but she hadn't expected any more. She had expected condemnation and scoffing at their "primitive" ways as so many lowlanders seemed to do. "Even if the lowlanders didn't worship as we do, it was a chance that couldn't be ignored for one such as Movran."

His question earned a flinch, he had unknowningly struck at a raw wound. Morren turned away, her gaze focused on the ground as she chewed how to explain herself. How to describe that she had never been wanted in the one place that was supposed to be her home? Some even whispered that she was cursed. It seemed a heavy burden to place on the shoulders of a relative stranger.

"I would but I have nothing to go back to. I have no blood kin and I was considered a burden on my clan as it was. Add to that how I dishonored myself by being caught by the enemy and hadn't even the strength to die fighting to make up for it."

It was the first time she had admitted it aloud and yet that didn't seem to ease the pain. She had her suspicions the moment she was included in the party sent to the Mire. This would be no mission to win glory, to win the recognition she'd always craved. No, this was intended to be a suicidal charge and nothing more. A way to rid the clan of those Movran thought useless without having to outright exile them.

"I might as you something similar." Morren noted, though her knowledge was limited she had heard of the elves and how they lived nomadic lives in clans similar to their own "Do elves not have clans which keep away from humans?"

Solas listened to the whole of her tale without interrupting, despite the myriad questions it raised. He knew very little about this society, such as it was. He hadn’t even known they existed before the unfortunate events of the Mire. He had assumed, incorrectly, that the humans were more or less a conglomerate of similar ideas and beliefs. It wasn’t the first time he’d been wrong since awakening. He doubted it would be the last.

When she finished, he took a moment to consider what she’d said, idly resting his hand on the nose of the stabled mare. In the past, animals had sensed the dormant predator within him, but without the fullness of his power, he seemed to them just another elf.

“I see,” he said at last. “I had not considered what the Breach might be like for those who revere the sky, if I understand your beliefs correctly. I suppose it natural to seize the opportunity of chaos to reclaim something you’ve lost.”

But it did not answer the burning question as to why she was here, when she could be anywhere, unless she were a prisoner of the Inquisition. He hadn’t spent enough time with the advisors to learn the truth of her circumstances, and what tales he had heard spoke more of Avvar chaos and aggression than anything else. 

“A prudent choice, albeit not an easy one,” he allowed. “Why, though, do you stay at Skyhold? Would you not prefer to return to the lands of your people?”

[wolf-eyes-wolf-soul]

She sighed. Even knowing it was coming did not make it any more pleasant. Still, Morren supposed, it was better than what she had been expecting. With how things had gone in the Mire, she had walked around Skyhold wary every moment of a violent reprisal.

“Morren. Former member of Ram-Horn Hold.” She offered in return but she didn’t smile or offer any gesture. Morren of nowhere, kin to nobody. She tried not to flinch at the reminder in her head that sounded awfully like Movran.

“I suppose it all started when the wound in the Lady appeared.” She began, better to start at the beginning “Everyone shat themselves over it. No one knew where it came from or what it meant and whether it was a good omen or bad. All we knew was that the lowlands were in chaos and even when the wound was healed it didn’t seem to matter much to them. We only raid because there’s things we can’t make or grow ourselves and until now you’re supposed to be tactical about it. No one wants an army of lowlanders following you up the mountain and burning the hold to the ground.”

She couldn’t help the humourless huff of laughter. When had Movran ever been cautious? His son had learned from his father well and now he was dead.

“Anyways, Movran thought that it would be a great time to try and reclaim land the lowlanders had taken from us generations past. That’s why we were in the Mire at all. Except, Tyggr…Tyggr got it into his thick skull that there’d be more honour in bringing back the head of someone big. Maybe he thought he’d be named heir or get a legend mark or maybe both, only the gods know what he was thinking. So when the scouts came, they stumbled on us in that ruined keep and Tyggr decided that this Inquisitor ought to be big enough. I’m sure you’ve heard the rest from there. He’s dead now and I decided that I preferred to live rather than follow him.”

"Such is the way of things, I'm afraid," he said, coming alongside the other part of the stables. "All any of us can do is endure." Wisdom's parting words had stuck with him profoundly these past few days. They were always so much better than him, yet he was always the one left standing.

"I am," he allowed. " I have heard several versions. I would like to hear yours, if you would share." Far be it from him to cast judgment, at least until he had a clearer picture. Then he had no problem voicing his approval or disapproval, regardless of whether it was asked for.

"Solas," he said, hand on his chest in a gesture of universal greeting. "Resident apostate." When first he'd joined the Inquisition, he'd affected a more humble posture and manner of speech. He hadn't been able to maintain that for very long.

[wolf-eyes-wolf-soul]

Animals were better company than people any day. Morren had learned that lesson very young. People had prejudices and could speak with sharp, angry words and sometimes it wasn’t just words they inflicted. Animals only lashed out whenever they were threatened, or afraid, or hurt. She found them much more honest company.

So when a sudden voice spoke up, she couldn’t help but jump.

“They don’t seem to have much of a choice.” She offered, her voice soft as the horse she was stroking lipped at her fingers looking for treats “They have no voice to speak with. Still, it’s possible to adapt to anything, even if there’s no other option.” Especially if there was no other option.

She squared her shoulders and turned to face the elf. His face was only vaguely familiar and she didn’t know his name but she had guessed why he had come. She had been expecting it to happen eventually.

“You’re here about what happened in the Mire.” A statement, not a question.

@wolf-eyes-wolf-soul liked for a starter

Solas was not surprised to find her near the stables. She seemed more comfortable with the wilds and beasts rather than the nobility infesting Skyhold. “They are magnificent,” he said by way of greeting, nodding at the horses carefully penned in. The air at this altitude was thin and bitter cold when the wind picked up. “And bear it well up here, so far from their homes.” Better than the humans who complained with increasing frequency. He recognized in her a reticence, or perhaps inability, to comfortably mingle with the growing population of the mountain fortress. “Do you imagine they would return, or are content to serve a greater purpose?”