[indent][color=gray] Roderick wasn’t slow to notice the shift in the qun’s bow position. His eyes failed from her eyes for what was less than a second’s second. He was making progress and that was all that concerned him in terms of his own safety. He wasn’t daft enough to meet a Qunari in open combat after going on a speed date with the maker just before. An annoying smile transformed into a grin, blond curls that sank like fresh sap, fell over his face. He eyed her through the gaps in the curtains that hung over his face, before sweeping them up and laughing, pushing out his chest and looking at the sky. [color=E7D27C]“A mockingbird? I prefer the song of a thrush, wouldn’t you? But if that makes me a passerine what does that make you my dear?”[/color] his porcelain white teeth and flair for the flamboyant made him seem more fox of cunning than bird of song. His eyebrows perked up at the showmanship of her dexterity, she was clearly a skilled marksman, if she weren’t perhaps the arrow would have grazed the mage and sunk into him. [color=E7D27C]“Nimble fingers, I’ll have to remember that”[/color] she seemed to be true in her words, which sent him scurrying towards her side with chainmail clinking with each upheaval. [color=E7D27C]“That makes two of at least, I’m sure they would regale you if you were to silence me. The templars of now are just obsessed with politics and positions.”[/color] Roderick followed her to the slowly petrifying body as she retrieved her bow. The squelching of flesh and blood wasn’t anything new to him, but still occupied the realm of unpleasant. [color=E7D27C]“Coincidence or not, we had been hunting this apostate for many nights. He took down my entire party in the woods just outside of Ferelden. I was one of the few that survived, perhaps by will of the divine I do not know. I lay at the neck of a stream collecting water when I return to find my camp decimated and the sickly sweet scent of iron wafting through the air, mixed with smoke and flame”[/color] Roderick's gaze traveled past the mage despite his line of sight being planted on the mage. His demeanor became hollow and lost all perspicacity, reverting into what could be attributed to a hardened templar or a recount of Orlesian tragedy. [color=E7D27C]“I tracked him down to Kirkwall and here I am. Shame I didn’t end it on my own terms.”[/color] The jovial expression returned to his face, his body resurging with energy, [color=E7D27C]“Well! He still met his justice and even brought me to you. Now I’m not too familiar with your language, but I think this will suffice”[/color] he cleared his throat, remembering a phrase taught to him by another Qun inside a bar, piss drunk. [color=E7D27C]“[i]Taarsidath-an halsaam[/i], I think that means thank you”[/color] he said bowing before her. [color=E7D27C]“So, what brought you here?”[/color] eager to know why their paths might have crossed. [/color][/indent]