The Bull reaches out, trying to grab Dorian's hand to move it away before it can actually get where it's going. "You want to be careful about touching your face right now, big guy," he murmurs, like saying it quietly's going to make the words slip under what easy, casual mood they've managed to build for themselves here away from the rest of the Deep Roads and all its shit, instead of running head-on into it.

"So," he goes on in a more normal voice, wrapping a genuine protest about whether a staff made for a human can handle the full weight of a qunari in another thick layer of innuendo, the better to distract Dorian with, "that mean you don't want me to take your stiff pole and have my way with it till all the magic comes right out? Probably for the best. I'm kind of big, you know, maybe it couldn't handle me."