Alistair watches him pass from his spot beside the fire; Zevran is mostly a silhouette, features only faintly visible in the moons' light, but Alistair knows how he's meant to walk and knows that it isn't like that. He stays seated, though, long enough for Sera to wander over and answer his question with got it from a darkspawn, didn't he? Looking at him like it's a stupid question (it is) and like it's his fault (it is).
His furious march to Zevran's tent loses some steam when he trips over the sand and his own feet. He's still dusting his arms off, where the sand is sticking to clammy night-sweat, when he nods to Zevran's guards and shoves through his tent flaps without pausing to allow them to stop him.
"I am good at one thing, Zevran," he says while his eyes adjust to the light, then cuts his own rant short in favor of trying to discern how bad it is.
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Date: 2016-07-08 01:46 am (UTC)His furious march to Zevran's tent loses some steam when he trips over the sand and his own feet. He's still dusting his arms off, where the sand is sticking to clammy night-sweat, when he nods to Zevran's guards and shoves through his tent flaps without pausing to allow them to stop him.
"I am good at one thing, Zevran," he says while his eyes adjust to the light, then cuts his own rant short in favor of trying to discern how bad it is.