Moments

Moment of Choice - Part 3

Silence, colder than that first morning step from bed to stone floor, dampened the air around me. Twists of snow rolled atop the never ending drifts. My coat snagged in a blast of frigid air, tossing the hem back dramatically and tightening the knot upon my neck. I yanked it down, along with the bow strung across my shoulder. Rhodri sniffed again, his head even more burrowed inside the cloak's hood. He'd snorted the air every few meters away from Skyhold before pointing in a random direction, as if elves could smell a ram over top the snow instead of spotting the obvious footprints. Even Cullen picked up on the prints scampering where the ram pawed through the endless snows for a scrap of untouched tree bark, then doubled back down the mountain. Varric chuckled at Rhodri's act, unimpressed by the fellow charlatan.

Rhodri twisted to me, always an arm's length away, "We are more likely to spook the prey in such a number."

I didn't know what he really wanted dragging me out in the woods for a 'hunt,' but he was right about this. "Tip the arrow," I agreed, getting a nod from him. "With a half start of the fletching to envelop."

Those blue vitriol eyes tried to crack through my armor, "A wise plan. It seems you haven't forgotten all your skills."

I snorted at that, "As if I wasn't the one to teach you how to thread the shaft." I directed my voice behind me, "Right, that should work or is it too great a distance for you two?"

"Um," Varric's wobbling voice echoed through the imposing cliffs. We both turned back to watch the dwarf struggling with snow rising past his thighs. Cullen marched beside him, fighting a battle against his armor weighing him deeper into the flimsy ground than either lightly clad elf. At least the fur on his shoulders should keep him warm. Even my overcoat wasn't enough; my skin burning below the thin leather.

"Not that I want to complain or anything," Varric said slowly lifting his legs high to try and stomp down upon snow waist high. "Been a great trip freezing every bit of me off in the snow so far, but what the shit were you two talking about?"

"I'm sorry." More than the burn of the wind lit up my cheeks. I forgot I was 'talking elfy' again. "It's an old hunting pattern. Rhodri and I will scout ahead, trying to flank the ram, while you two take up the rear to scare it towards us."

"Why not have one of us come with you?" Cullen asked me. The cold brought a brighter blush to his cheeks than anything I could manage, but his lips hung down, pale from the pressure. He'd worn a queer look from the moment we set out. I'd seen the Commander in almost every emotional stage imaginable, from heartbreak and sorrow to joy and another kind of joy not to mention in polite company. But now, with his breath puffing through his nose, and his eyes drawing a line across Rhodri I wondered if this wasn't the first I'd seen of jealousy.

He was left to trail behind with the grumbling dwarf while I flitted lightly through the snow, speaking in code with one of the elves who came to whisk me away. The tint of green was not without merit. I stammered, stepping towards him to answer his question, but, in a rare move, Rhodri spoke directly to him.

"Your mass would drag us down, spoiling the snow and obliterating any tracks we might need to follow."

"Excuse me?" Cullen shot back.

But Rhodri only sighed emphatically, spinning away as if he had no more reason to speak to the shemlan. I glared at him, but had to admit the truth, "It's the jangle of the armor...your heavier breathing would serve better to push the ram towards us. We'll hunt out an outcropping to try and line up a shot, then signal you to drive it towards the spot."

"Why didn't you say that before?" Cullen said, a pout trembling in his bottom lip. He hated being out here. Then again, in his past life when going hunting the prey were mages.