Hawke was outside because she'd planned to explore the city. She didn't like cities, and this one reminded her too much of Kirkwall. Fancier, of course, with a lot more stuff she had no idea about but relativley the same. So far, the only thing that was different was it wasn't breaking Kirkwall's record of having either demons or bloodmages around every corner. But that never meant anything. Kirkwall had taught her places like this had skeletons. Sometimes literally.
She'd been talking to Mal, because he disagreed that they were doing this alone and wanted to collect the family, when the man stumbled out. And Hawke knew that look. She was fairly sure she'd had a similar look a few times. And she knew the blood too. She sighed and looked to Mal, who just looked back. In the end though, Hawke helped people. She rolled her eyes and turned to face the stranger.
Holding up her hands, well away from the daggers she kept on her back in case this stranger thought she meant harm, she put on her best charming smile. "Any of that blood yours?" Her tone was light, but at least she hadn't opened with a joke. But credit where she was due she did realize when those things would be terribly inappropriate. "I stole some wine off my brother in law," she offered cheerily. "He'll forgive me. You want any of that?" Maker knew she'd needed a drink when she'd came in. It wasn't something she did often.