Ashya stared at the old guard in confusion as he shook her hand, before laughing, unable to help herself, her face splitting into a small grin that didn’t fade instantly. She turned to Imenry, assuming she had water along with the food she’d given her. “Do you have any? Please?” Her own backpack was somewhere in the tent, which was way too far for her to even think about making the attempt.
The little mage settled down in an even more comfortable position, trying to keep track of Quintus’ and Imenry's discussion about tactics and training. It was important, she knew – it would make the next, inevitable clash with darkspawn go much smoother – but she was so sleepy, and it was so hard to focus on something so complicated. Her mind wandered, and soon her eyes slid shut, and she started nodding. The girl slumped slightly sideways, her chest rising and falling slowly with each breath as she rested against the old elf, falling asleep in a matter of moments.