Puppy. [ Now he's--still not offended. But he does a better job of sounding like he might be, at least, while he shuffles into the bare space and unceremoniously drops the bedroll to let it floppily unroll on its own. The bag he's more careful with--there's lyrium in it--and the armor, too, he handles with affectionate care. ]
I can build a shelf, [ he says while he's still half-caught in loose straps and chain mail. ] Can't promise it won't wobble, but--what are you-- [ Clothes straightened, amulet dropped back down his shirtfront. He frowns at Zevran. More specifically his needle. ] Doesn't that hurt?
[ As if they haven't both fought with arrowheads or knives still stuck in their limbs. That's different. ]
well good job i'm dead
I can build a shelf, [ he says while he's still half-caught in loose straps and chain mail. ] Can't promise it won't wobble, but--what are you-- [ Clothes straightened, amulet dropped back down his shirtfront. He frowns at Zevran. More specifically his needle. ] Doesn't that hurt?
[ As if they haven't both fought with arrowheads or knives still stuck in their limbs. That's different. ]