All is Well

Light plays at dancing through the trees, and shadows a pattern over them. Her reaching fingertips brush up against the branches and leaves which curl downwards into their path. She plucks one as she passes, turning it between her fingers – a dizzying spin of greens, yellows and reds. Merrill and Isabela catch her attention and so she lets it go. It floats away from her, landing the step behind him. She’s turning to listen to what Merrill is telling her as they walk, and he watches the edge of her smile. The warm glow of the setting sun haloes around Hawke’s profile. It sets fire to all it touches, from the stray strands of her hair in the breeze, to what seeps through her fingers as she talks, landing on him. Fenris knows he must tell her soon.