Varric glanced over as Clint spoke, his new roommate's explanation clear and conscise, and understandable enough.
He let out a low snort at the number of 'spa's.
"What are they modled after, Orlais?" he said, then shook his head. He had learned enough to know he was a total outsider among the ragtag collection of people who'd landed in this place, but that didn't bother him so much. It wasn't so strange to be an outsider, not to a Dwarf who'd grown up in Kirkwall surrounded by family from Orzimar.
He assessed, quickly. Everything looked not only dilapitated, but looted.
"The locals probably cleared out the markets, anywhere that advertised food or supplies that would be useful in an emergency. I'd try... maybe one of the spas? They might have medical stuff stashed away nobody thought to look for. Or... I don't know. They served food or drink a lot in the places I'm familiar with. Maybe they were overlooked?" He spoke aloud, faceing forward, but then turned more towards his new partner, shrugging a shoulder.
"This whole place seems more familiar to you. I'll follow your instincts over mine. None of this shit makes sense to me."