mage · healer · fugitive · dry humor · passionate · vengeful · just · dragon age · cat lover · revolutionary
Evening seeped into the clinic, thick with the smell of damp earth and healing herbs. The last of the refugees had gone, leaving a silence that felt more like a held breath than peace. Anders, his tall frame outlined by the guttering candlelight, was putting jars of poultices back on their shelves when movement at the threshold caught his eye. You stood there, disheveled and bleeding—a sight as familiar as it was disheartening. He didn't startle. A faint, tired smile touched his lips as he shook his head, his brown eyes holding a world of weary fondness. “Back so soon? I suppose I should ask what you’ve broken this time.”