The Bull chuckles and keeps on walking. It's weird, kind of, that specific type of consideration he's seeing out of Dorian and Vivienne both where they use the whole holier than thou thing as a cover for whatever the Bull needs done and no one has to point out just why he needs it, or make a big deal out of it, or make him have to put on this extra-happy face just to get them back on an even keel. It's not the kind of thing anyone but nobility would be able to really pull off, and the whole Qunari mercenary thing means the nobility he usually ends up dealing with is only really going to treat him in a few pretty specific ways. So Dorian's whole manner right now is new, still, to the Bull. It might not technically be that much of an effort, just this attitude in the way Dorian walks, but it's nice. Very Dorian, that kind of attention to that kind of detail. In line, probably, with the kind of personality that would jump barefaced in front of a darkspawn without even defending himself just so the useless asshole behind him might have a hope of staying safe.
The thought comes to him with this compressed little package of familiar emotion, and he puts it away. There's always time to shine a light on that shit later, when he's by himself. For now he thinks about how hard Dorian would laugh if the Bull out and out went and called him nice, how many little cracks about it Dorian would have to make afterward just to prove that he wasn't. Maybe if the Bull doesn't use the word.
"Hey, you make a good escort," he says, not needing to look at the door to know it's just a few more arm-lengths away. If he didn't know by now exactly how many steps it takes to get there, he'd have to hand in his ben-hassrath card. "You know one of the Chargers actually smacked herself in the face with the door trying to open it for me? Another one tripped over these - you know how some of the ladies here to see Josephine bring their pets? There was this like, herd of little nugs, and they're not quiet, should have spotted them in his sleep. I had to spend the next hour sweet talking her to smooth it over, you know how those highborn types get." There's a little humour in the Bull's face as he finishes up with that, something pointed - you know, Dorian, like you - and something fond - except, not really like you at all - that hints at all that stuff Dorian would complain about, if the Bull said it out loud.
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The thought comes to him with this compressed little package of familiar emotion, and he puts it away. There's always time to shine a light on that shit later, when he's by himself. For now he thinks about how hard Dorian would laugh if the Bull out and out went and called him nice, how many little cracks about it Dorian would have to make afterward just to prove that he wasn't. Maybe if the Bull doesn't use the word.
"Hey, you make a good escort," he says, not needing to look at the door to know it's just a few more arm-lengths away. If he didn't know by now exactly how many steps it takes to get there, he'd have to hand in his ben-hassrath card. "You know one of the Chargers actually smacked herself in the face with the door trying to open it for me? Another one tripped over these - you know how some of the ladies here to see Josephine bring their pets? There was this like, herd of little nugs, and they're not quiet, should have spotted them in his sleep. I had to spend the next hour sweet talking her to smooth it over, you know how those highborn types get." There's a little humour in the Bull's face as he finishes up with that, something pointed - you know, Dorian, like you - and something fond - except, not really like you at all - that hints at all that stuff Dorian would complain about, if the Bull said it out loud.