It is, as he predicted, a small space – large enough for the Bull to pass through, admittedly, but not easily, and Dorian wants to ask how the other man is faring, whether or not it might be wiser to shuffle back the way they came to save the Bull some trouble.
The impulse is interruped by the sound of footsteps, by the distant snarling, hissing, growling of darkspawn, made alien and indistinct by the small, enclosed space. Dorian freezes, tossing up a hand and flexing his fingers, bringing the wisps in close to dampen the light. He doubts the cracks in the wall are large enough for the wisps' glow to seep through, but Dorian would rather be cautious than risk the darkspawn figuring out where they are and smashing down the wall to get to them.
He freezes as the noises come closer. He lifts up his free hand to clamp his palm over his nose and mouth – both to block out the stench and to trap in any sounds that might escape him – but he quickly remembers himself, remembers the Bull's earlier warning, and bites down on his lips instead. When the darkspawn finally wander off, Dorian lets out a near silent breath through his lips.
He glances back at the Bull, brow creasing at the heaviness in the other man's voice. There's logic in the plan, of course – the Bull has been nothing but infuriatingly reasonable during this entire predicament – but Dorian doesn't hasten to agree just yet.
Instead, he whispers, "Are you all right? This can hardly be comfortable for you."
no subject
The impulse is interruped by the sound of footsteps, by the distant snarling, hissing, growling of darkspawn, made alien and indistinct by the small, enclosed space. Dorian freezes, tossing up a hand and flexing his fingers, bringing the wisps in close to dampen the light. He doubts the cracks in the wall are large enough for the wisps' glow to seep through, but Dorian would rather be cautious than risk the darkspawn figuring out where they are and smashing down the wall to get to them.
He freezes as the noises come closer. He lifts up his free hand to clamp his palm over his nose and mouth – both to block out the stench and to trap in any sounds that might escape him – but he quickly remembers himself, remembers the Bull's earlier warning, and bites down on his lips instead. When the darkspawn finally wander off, Dorian lets out a near silent breath through his lips.
He glances back at the Bull, brow creasing at the heaviness in the other man's voice. There's logic in the plan, of course – the Bull has been nothing but infuriatingly reasonable during this entire predicament – but Dorian doesn't hasten to agree just yet.
Instead, he whispers, "Are you all right? This can hardly be comfortable for you."