He briefly pressed his cheek against the top of her head, breathing in the newly cleaned smell of her. Underneath the fading smell of roses, she was all Imenry as he remembered. Brennan closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment of weakness, imagining that they were back home. But the kinds of emotions that filled him shattered that dream, because they would have been found there. Nostalgia had no place in the village of his memories, only in the memories of his village.
Letting the brief, insane, dream go, he chuckled at Imenry's request. "To be fair, I would rather listen to your stories for I have none." At least, from his point of view very little of interest had happened in his life the past few years. "I was injured, and next I know I'm at the base of the mountain with only a hazy idea of how I got there. I learned the local language, mingled with the local people, saw my first city - nasty place but so captivating - royally angered a lady, got some Templars that wanted my head, hid in a mansion, and made my way out of Orlais and into Fereldan. I'm less likely to be killed on sight in this country." He cast his mind back for other events, "Hmmm, erm, I have sampled the drinks in many a pub, although most of them are pig's swill, and seduced a few ladies."
Here he paused and made a comical face and poked Imenry in the side, "I had a few men try to seduce me." It was not unknown to their village, but everyone back at the village knew he did not swing that way. It had been harder to stave off the advances of another man, eventually it lead him to perform a classic 'hit and run'. A punch to the nose left the ardent man down for the count while Brennan took off out the door. The barkeep had been less than thrilled about Brennan's other classic maneuver, 'dine and dash'. To his defense, Brennan had forgotten all about paying in his haste to get out of there, rather than the other way around.