Moments

Moment of Goat

"Decent place to camp," Blackwall muttered to his beard. We'd already tossed down our packs when Blackwall gave his blessing. Smiling, I released the signal to base to send over a couple soldiers to assist and hold it should/when we wandered off.

"I don't know about that," Varric said, stepping away from his bulging pack to pace around the first decent bit of flat land we'd found in hours, "What about that spider nest Sparkles fell into?"

"I didn't fall," Dorian pouted. "The earth moved me towards it."

"I'm not really feeling it here," Varric continued, "I prefer my camp to be rift adjacent. Cuts down on time running head long into one." Blackwall glared at Varric. "What? I've got tiny legs."

"Whatever happened to the notion of sleeping indoors? With a roof, and walls, and the ability to clear the grime off our bodies," Dorian whined, then glanced over at the grey warden. "Some of our bodies." Blackwall grumbled at him, busying himself with the first tent poles so he didn't attack the mage.

Varric slapped Dorian on the back, both of them watching the man doing the work to establish the camp instead of helping, "Don't worry, Sparkles. This'll put hair on your chest."

"That would explain our man bear here. I am a bit curious, have you ever actually slept inside or would a roof cause you to combust?"

Blackwall slammed a tent pole against the ground. He made it two steps towards the mage before I sighed, "Could we please get this set up and then get to bickering?"

Dorian shrugged, "No skin off my nose." Blackwall growled at him, but that only encouraged the mage to laugh in response.

I ignored them all, fumbling through my own wad of possibly useful herbs, bits of rock that could be mineral samples, and...My fingers stumbled across a small node of wood, carved crudely in the form of a face. It was of all the options June, not the most helpful of gods to pray to unless one could only cross a bridge by repairing its guardians bow. But the thought was what mattered. Tucking my god safer into my pack, I glanced down at my boots.

"Creators, I'm going to be picking burrs off for weeks. Why did we go through that patch again?"

"Because you decreed, 'Oh look, a short cut,'" Dorian said.

Varric chuckled, "It did get us to the spiders faster."

"Too bad we were looking for demons," the damn mage and dwarf teamed up on me. But at least they weren't taking after Blackwall. After the spiders, the slide down a mountain into a river of mud, and only Dorian having a change of clothes he could wear, the man looked about ready to rip anyone's head off and jam it onto a pike. I didn't have time to wait for a mage replacement at Skyhold.

"Inquisitor," the pike man called, snagging my attention. He pointed to a quickly expanding shadow on the horizon. Shielding my eyes the horseman focused into view, a banner flapping behind him.

"It's one of ours," I said.

"How can you tell?" Varric asked standing on his tiptoes to see.

"Looking," Blackwall grumbled before returning to his duties. Pride went into his work of unfolding the canvas just flat enough it only took four tries before he could get the tent poles connected.

He'd already gotten one tent up by the time the rider thundered into camp and yanked back on the horses reins. Spittle splashed against Dorian's cheek. Wiping at it, he glared at the horse, "I'll remember you."

The rider didn't dismount, instead she twisted her horse to circle around me. "Inquisitor?"

"Yes?"