Rhocanth seemed to cool off gradually as Imenry spoke, at first just cradling his elbows in his palms sternly, then nodding, then letting his arms hang again and his face go loose and easy. The topic of the Dalish seemed to interest him, and he quirked his head at her curiously.
"What sorts of problems do the Dalish have?" he wondered. "I have only read about them in books... the scant few ever available on them in Orzammar. Which is to say, I perhaps ran into one or two in my lifetime." As for her promise to help, should Signy ever require it, he smiled for her with a bit of an aggressive twinge. "They certainly would not have a chance. On this I can agree wholeheartedly."
Imenry was, in a word, fascinating. She had strength the likes of which was rare even amongst dwarven women, and was not afraid to admit such. It was refreshing in a way he had not quite expected, but now that he had experienced it, he felt a newfound respect for her. That, and she was very observant. She had remembered a detail he had given about himself, and taken it a step further. He had to nod at that, acknowledging her idea. "That is true. I wrote poetry, chiefly. My family has a long tradition of writing epics, especially about Paragons. Of course I will continue. I imagine the Grey Wardens will prove to be a rich topic."