It was good to be in a town again. Thus far Alderic had found travelling since the addition of the elder Ledaal brothers to their merry band to be distinctly… tense, and welcomed the opportunity to enjoy a moment or two without feeling eyes on the back of his head. At least Rhocanth was good company, and Bethen was an old friend in the first place, and Dee was- well, Dee, so there were bright spots, but with everything that had happened recently he really needed a few moments’ peace to sort some things out. Distracted as he exchanged a few words with a passing local, his traveling band dissolving around him into ones and twos and threes, he did not immediately notice Bethen’s lonely departure toward the Lothering Chantry. What hedid notice was the swish of a furry blonde tail as the Ledaals’ massive “pet” slipped past him to follow her, eliciting a suspicious frown. He excused himself politely, resisting the urge to clench his hand around the pommel of his sword as he stalked off in the beast’s wake. However docile the wolf might seem, however much it may have suckered some of the others into believing it the world’s biggest, friendliest, funniest-looking Mabari, he certainly wasn’t about to let it wander off alone with the mage. It raised his hackles, that animal. There was just something about it… it was too smart for one thing, and there was also something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he wished he hadn’t hesitated when he could have killed it at the bank of that stream.
As he closed the gap between himself, Bethen and the monstrous “dog”, politely greeting a sister and a Templar brother as they passed him by, Alderic only just began to notice the strange way that Bethen carried herself. He bristled a little at the way the wolf ingratiated itself to the mage, rubbing itself against her hip like an overgrown puppy, although a part of him couldn’t blame the animal for at least drawing a smile from her when she looked so strangely downtrod. The most probable cause for Bethen’s fallen spirits dawned on him embarrassingly slowly. She was from this town, wasn’t she? She’d said so on the road the past few days. She’d even seemed cheerful about it, talking about her father and her family, but… everyone knew Lothering had been wiped out by Darkspawn in the war. He’d been expecting the mage to have some kind of happy reunion with her family the way she talked about them recently, but was there any family left to find? Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, but Alderic felt like a heel for not making the connection earlier.
Now he wasn’t sure if he should be following her, after all. Maybe she wanted a moment alone? But there was that damned wolf, and if nothing else he hoped she would at least tell him if he wasn’t wanted. She was obviously headed to the Chantry too, and he’d honestly intended to go there first himself. Feeling very awkward indeed, Alderic cleared his throat as he neared his fellow Warden (and that notion was still taking a lot of getting used to, wasn’t it).
“I thought,” he started as he fell into stride beside Bethen with the wolf loping between them, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he thought he did, “you might want some company.”
Smiling at her reflexively he added, “The kind that can talk, anyway. Are you all right, Bethen?”