The Bull grunts, thinking about it, trying to get himself into the right mindset. He isn't going to totally shed this feeling, even though the Deep Roads haven't turned out to be as small or narrow as a part of him had expected; the unease that had built on the way down here, that long, slow trip down with not a lot to do but imagine what it might be like, is still sticking with him. Maybe it's the fact that he was already on edge before he got here. It's building on other stuff. Not a lot to do about it now, anyway - but he can try to operate on that level anyway, play some version of the guy who could carry on a back-and-forth with Dorian like things are normal. A little more to concentrate on might help.

"Twenty questions sounds good to me," he says, and thinks over the kinds of something the Iron Bull who was on the surface with nothing really on his mind would want Dorian to ask about. Try to make it something where, maybe, he might manage to have a little fun. "I have something in mind already, if you want to start. You want any hints?"