"Quite," he replies, though he sounds more tired than curt. It's at least a bit of a relief that the Bull didn't try to reassure him, didn't try to convince him that he was worrying over nothing.
He lets out another breath, shaking his head. "After the healer declared I wasn't contagious, if I was ever contagious to begin with, my first choice had been to make myself useful in the library. The Inquisitor, in her infinite wisdom, declared I needed fresh air, at least for the next day or two. Before that, though, yes – I'd been in my quarters. The Inquisitor had been kind enough to bring me some of my work."
He glances over, watches as the Bull shifts his weight, trying to get comfortable on an injured ankle. Dorian's eyebrows knit together briefly, and in a voice a little softer than he intends, "How are you faring?"
no subject
He lets out another breath, shaking his head. "After the healer declared I wasn't contagious, if I was ever contagious to begin with, my first choice had been to make myself useful in the library. The Inquisitor, in her infinite wisdom, declared I needed fresh air, at least for the next day or two. Before that, though, yes – I'd been in my quarters. The Inquisitor had been kind enough to bring me some of my work."
He glances over, watches as the Bull shifts his weight, trying to get comfortable on an injured ankle. Dorian's eyebrows knit together briefly, and in a voice a little softer than he intends, "How are you faring?"