[ There's a small stretch of silence that follows. Karlach, softly snoring nearby. Tav frowns and it changes the shape of her face, tightens her shoulders imperceptibly — displeasure, or a defensive measure, or a fissure of frosty anger that's characterized her before. It lasts only as long as it takes her to sit on one of the bedrolls by the fire. There, she blows out a heavy sigh, rumbling her lips into a soft raspberry. (That's not a very leadery thing to do, is it?) ]

I asked him to run through the forest, [ she tells Astarion, carefully. Her eyes cut sidelong to him, neutral, still thinking. ] To see if there are any animals out there larger than a rabbit.

[ It's not anger that made her frown. It's just— She feels— a little embarrassed, is the thing. Caught out on her small, secret plan, for a small, secret thought, that if not her own, a deer might do.

Quickly, as if what happened before isn't important, she adds, ]

You always ask for my secrets, Astarion. [ Even with the fact that it's hard to keep them, sometimes, with their visitors they share, crawling just behind their eye sockets. ] I won't have any left, soon.

[ She smiles at him. She's not really upset, this isn't at all like how she didn't speak to Gale for half a tenday that one time, and she could always say no. Tav has before. But there's a premium to the truth, one that she always pays before telling — she's never been the best liar, anyway. ]