[ It's funny, really — they've only shared so much of their respective pasts to each other, yet the way they know how to navigate around each other, like two passengers upon a boat, each movement a shift in already-precarious balance, comes naturally. The providence of broken things, one might suppose. One blessing amidst the seemingly endless barrage of curses.

The line of her mouth shifts and he — ever more demonstrative, though in a more tempered way in these quieter moments — smiles outright, pleased that his offering is one she takes to. ]

Let's.

[ With that — and a little wiggle of his fingers — Astarion sets about digging out some of the spare linens tucked away in the room's shelves. ]

I only began to make camp relatively recently, [ he says, as he does. ] Even if the accommodations were less than plush, even with all of the danger that entailed — I suppose I found a certain joy in it.

[ A joy in choice, a joy in being away from that godforsaken manse. But that part of the equation, he keeps to himself as he takes a step back from the bed, arms full of fabric, mentally assessing the best way to go about putting together a little nest for the night. ]

—How long were you in the forests?