He's fine. Just...a bit cold. His backside, that is. And, well, I suppose his tail is trapped as well.
[He pauses and tries to gather enough courage to bypass the sheer embarrassment he feels from this entire situation, especially since he pointedly ignored Anders' post querying anyone of newfound magic abilities. A few audible starts are heard. The fourth time is when he finally speaks.]
I may have acquired the abomination's abilities in the process of losing my markings to...whatever strange curse this is. [Another pause.] I- I...accidentally froze your dog's back while petting him.
[Talk about the worst surprise ever for the poor warhound. He hopes his inability to control the magic is clear enough to Hawke. He really doesn't want to admit it aloud.]
[For a very long time, Hawke is silent, listening, assessing what he's just said. And when he finally finishes and grows quiet, there's nothing said for a good moment. Her dog whines plaintively in the background.
And then, she chuckles softly.]
Oh. Oh, that's-- [Hilarious. But she can't say that. She coughs, composes herself.] I'm so sorry. That's probably a handful.
[That part she's serious about.]
Let me come over and we'll see what we can do. Maybe get some hot water for his back. As far as your predicament goes...we'll need to figure something out. But I'm guessing you haven't told Anders, have you?
[The laughing does not escape him. But he just sighs in response. It would be amusing, he supposes, if he were not the one afflicted with the condition. Except he is.]
Yes. Quite. You should be glad that I did not set fire to his back instead. [Flatly. He doesn't want to tell her about his pillow.]
Right. I appreciate your help. [... And then after a rather long, unnecessary pause:] No. I haven't.
[If that sounds like the guilty tone Carver had used years ago when he got caught stealing the sweet roll Bethany had been saving, that's because it is.]
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