“A pity,” she hummed, “but I think I can manage to last a little longer without knowing all the details.” While she certainly wasn’t disappointed at the lack of information, as she honestly hadn’t been expecting any, she still drew back when there was none to be found. Her head snapped up as he continued to speak, spine stiffening, and she looked at him with a face set in stone. “I assure you that I can look after myself.” Biting down sharply on her own tongue she cut off any other words that might have followed.
Pulling her legs in, body slumping over to clasp them to her tighter, she turned to look away from the man next to her. “So,” she asked faintly. “Which do you prefer?” Tilting her head slightly so that she could just catch his gaze with her own she continued on more purposefully, though her only intention in asking was to move past her own anger. “Being a mercenary or being a Grey Warden? You said the work was similar.” She hesitated over the last word as if she struggled to believe it. In some ways she did. It was honestly hard for her to picture the Grey Wardens as mercenaries of any sort. Guards or soldiers she could see but not mercenaries. Perhaps it was simply something in the difference of reputation.
Frowning to herself she let out a soft sigh and shook her head. “Don’t mistake me; I have no intention of trying to join up with your Wardens. I don’t think I am very suited but I will admit… I am curious.”