Northstar Vale a grin as sharp as a knife (mtr.)

waters of awakening.

should i be worried i'm going to have some grand, life-altering epiphany bathing in these waters? the tease rasps from betwixt his lips playfully, lightly. why not just call it 'hot spring'? the tundrian prattles on annoyingly, trying to rib her from the vestiges of slumber she clearly lingers in. oh, how lotte might be disappointed in his entire and complete lack of imagination! and now surely you understand why i am no bard.

i'm no tale weaver and i lack the imagination to compose song as my mother could. perhaps, he thinks, it is the first time he's spoken of her to andraste; and maybe it isn't — a lot has happened between their prior meetings, including but not limited to the entire, if not brief, vanquishing of his memory. and what i am? wintersbane prods for more information. what do you see when you look at me, kuuhaltija? he murmurs, plucking the new nickname for her in tundrian without needing to consider it.