Quintus listened to the girl’s reply, not finding much information amongst the words spoken. She volunteered, but beyond that she shared no other reasons. The man continued to tap his boot with his fingertips in absent concentration. He watched the dying flames as Ashya brought the question to him instead. A soft groan unintentionally left his lips as he shifted. Feeling like his muscles were creaking, he stood up. He went over to a small pile of firewood. He grabbed a couple pieces, the dry bark scratching at his bare palms.
“There wasn’t much more for me to do.” He replied to the question in a simple fashion. It was true, he didn’t plan to describe it past that. He didn’t feel it was very appropriate to tell the young girl the depressing situation he was in at Denerim. Quintus poked the fire with a branch before adding a couple branches of wood. The flames flickered before rising in power. Warmth radiated from the refreshed fire. Once it seemed steady again, Quintus made sure the wood was in a neatly stacked pile before sitting back beside Ashya.
“So, volunteered...” He mumbled, leaning against his pack and looking up at the night sky. The man placed his hands behind his head. His feet were close to the fire, the warmth soaking through the leather. He spoke clearer so that the girl knew he was directing the question towards her, “Is it everything you imagined it would be?” He already had his assumptions on how the girl would answer, but he would give her the chance to actually speak her thoughts. She was talking and that was a good sign. Many inexperienced people would fall unsocial for numerous days before returning to their normal selves after such a battle.