The crackling of the nearby hearth and the quiet hooting of an unseen owl did their best to lull her deeper into slumber, but while the effort was there, all Deidre could really muster these days was a light doze. A life spent largely traversing on many paths all over Thedas had left her perpetually unable to sleep too deeply, lest something happened that caught her off-guard. She mostly traveled alone, having developed the requisite skills and talents to such a degree that enabled her to survive by her wits if nothing else. That, however, came with the price of never letting herself submerge completely into the blacker pits of unconsciousness. Somehow, she still found enough rest to be able to face the next day with a clear mind and her usual, enthusiastic verve -- in many ways, Maker-bestowed or not, the ability to do so was the tenderest of mercies.
The heavy curtain of her lashes fluttered once, and briefly, hearing the telltale crunch coming from somewhere away from her -- closer to the near-invisible perimeter she had made as an added precaution. It was nothing too elaborate, having come across an abandoned structure a while back that housed, among other bits of garbage and scrap, detritus from what appeared to be some kind of roadside party. Bottles in various states of ruin littered the site, and she had crushed the glass and bagged the rest so she could line a circle around the outer fringes of her camp. In the dark, the fragments would have been impossible to see, but the inorganic sound amidst so much wildlife would be unnatural when trodden upon -- distinct from her present environs, and functioned as an adequate alarm.
The sounds persisted. Her eyes slid towards her blind spot while her fingers moved to touch the loaded crossbow she kept at the ready on the adjacent branch. Her other hand shifted, fingers twining themselves on the thin screen of branches that camouflaged her from view and drew them down.
The sight of the moving figures astonished her. With their heads bare and the unmistakable silver-white of Templar armor reflecting the nearby fire, not only was she somewhat stunned that members of the Order were skulking about in the woods of the Bannorn at this hour... but also that they were two that she knew. It had been a year and a half since she last saw Aurin (in a trip that was, to date, one of the most embarrassing endeavors she had ever taken part of), and even longer still since she had seen Alderic despite regular correspondences sent between them -- or as regular as their lives would allow.
Both were unique personalities; memorable in their respective ways. Both held in varying degrees of reluctant and, some would say, exasperated affection. She couldn't help the grin playing upwards on her lips.
She rolled her head back to look at glittered canopy above her, and belted out in a sing-song voice:
"The years found me wild and uncouth To be a Templar in my youth Yes! 'twas the only life for me Not in me for peaceful trading But marching and blood mage hunting! 'Twas a path which I burned forsooth!
They'll attack some cultist village Where they'll burn and slay and pillage And return with their spoils and tales Some say they're damn deplorable They're really quite adorable But I'm biased for they're all males
With them there's no time to party Or to be horribly bratty No space for living fancy free But it's a life that's fulfilling Even with the endless chanting Yes, 'tis a Templar's life for me!"
She didn't make any move to hide her position, jerking the shield of leaves further down to cast her gaze towards the ground. The mischievous expression remained.