Rannon methodically unwound the harnesses on his upper armor as they walked. Gideon trotted beside his master, though he often kept his ears up and alert. They would twitch every time Feri stepped on a twig. "I'm glad the Grey Warden's survived." he replied, his voice rough. He needed a drink as well, he realized. His throat felt far too parched. He had been too busy chasing those Darkspawn to stop and take a sip from the stream earlier. 

He shook his breastplate off, as well as his bracers and pauldrons, letting them hit the earth with an audible 'thunk', before he fell to his knees at the edge of the stream, and began to toss water into his face and wounds. Cold water spilled into his vision, and crimson ran down his arms, chest, and back. He still wore a linen shirt underneath his armor, but it was very torn. Feri would see prominent muscles crisscrossed with training scars through the sheared linen, as well as very recent cuts as well. 

Rannon and Gideon both stuck their heads into the stream to get some of that sweet water. His rough leather trousers actually matched Gideon's dark fur. Rannon rose up again, coughing and wiping his mouth with his strong forearm, standing to his full height. He turned to Feri, giving her a nod and a wink. "Don't mention it," he told her. "I saw you back there. You're pretty good yourself. I'd not seen many Dwarves fight before."

He'd planted himself on a fair sized rock next to the stream, looking to Feri. Her forthright manner and wit seemed to speak to him. Or perhaps he was just glad he had met anyone that wasn't Darkspawn. Behind him, Gideon still lapped up some water, before he pounced and leaped into the stream to play in it a bit.  "What are you doing so far into the wilds? Or, Lothering I guess?"