Dwarves must truly be as resilient as the stone they lived beneath. Falina did not look at all like she was newly waken from a nightmare; Ordhan was certain that he would look a sight worse in the same situation, and for him nightmares were merely routine. If dwarves did not dream, would that mean that the only visions she would have were of the Blight? The thought made him feel almost sick. The dreams began after the Joining. What in the Maker's name had they done to the recruits to cause it? Were all of the surviving recruits now afflicted? Having fought alongside Grey Wardens in the past, he knew of their ability to sense when the Darkspawn came near; it was a useful skill, but it now seemed that it came at a price.
The cloak was much too large for her; it trailed like a blanket behind her and fell at each side in bundles when she sat. Ordhan grinned and tucked a trailing edge over her arm. He briefly laid a hand on her shoulder before drawing it away--the movement came automatically, half-forgotten habit of comforting another nightmare-stricken young girl long ago rising to the surface. He crossed his arms and laid his shoulders against the wooden wall, setting them at a crooked angle so he could better look down at her. "I am certain you will," he answered. It was no empty assurance on his part. Nothing could truly prepare anyone for facing Darkspawn, but if Falina had dreamed of them and not been scarred, she had mettle as good as any soldier. "The shock of seeing them is half the battle, and you have already faced it. If we do fight them, you will have me and Cormac and all of the others watching your back."
The knight grinned again at both her encouragement and teasing. She was as frank as ever, a quality he could not appreciate enough; her confidence in him was more encouragement than any amount fretting would have brought him. "There will be new things for both of us, then," he conceded.
"You went through the forest? I have gone within sight of it, but never inside. I have heard strange stories." He paused, looking down at her. "Are there really walking trees?" he asked, poorly-veiled curiosity in his face and voice. The tales seemed more like stories fit for a child than truth, but it was with a rather childish wonder he considered them. A warrior's mind would speculate on the threat such creatures would pose instead of hoping to catch a glimpse of them. By the look on his face, it was apparent he realized this.