[ socially adjusted in the streets, socially maladjusted at home in the sheets while you cry yourself to sleep because you're dead. hawke can relate. she gives him a nod and watches him pick up the shard from the ground, opening her mouth to speak when --
... ah. she hears a familiar roar of an ogre in the mirror behind her. her back tenses slightly. ]
no subject
... ah. she hears a familiar roar of an ogre in the mirror behind her. her back tenses slightly. ]
Yes, ah. We should definitely go? Now.