Char: Scout Harding, Val’Aishlym, Solas, Cassandra, Varric
Notes: See description
Ch Summary: He was....somewhat tolerable, correct? I mean he hated them....but that didn't mean he didn't like them....right?

Thinking Loudly, Shouting Silently: Inner Machinations of Val’Aishlym

A Thing About Race

    This was annoying. Val’Aishlym grunted silently. He wasn’t supposed to be here – none of this was supposed to happen! He was supposed to gather information then report back to the clan, he was not supposed to be exploded upon, marked as a traitor, then marked as some herald to some god he didn’t even believe existed.

    Now here they were in some random field in some random place – I think she said Hinterfield – on some god-forsaken mission to save something or another….He really should start paying attention to the finer details on the places the stupid shemlen Seeker dragged him off to. He’d probably finally get a chance to run away.

    “Herald-“ Val’Aishlym snapped to attention at the mention of the title forced upon him. “It’s funny, I didn’t think Elves cared about anyone but themselves,”

    “And I didn’t think Dwarves knew what the sun was,” Val’Aishlym snapped back hauntingly. “But here you are, here…..Vallic is,”

    “Varric,” Varric corrected with a raised eyebrow. Solas nor Cassandra said anything and Scout Harding looked a bit flustered – and a tad smidget angry. She said nothing farther as she relayed the rest of whatever it was she was saying to them. Val’Aishlym smugly followed behind Cassandra as she led the way, sparing the dwarf a glance as they walked past.