Maker forbid that ever happened. Merrill would be beside herself. To say nothing of Fenris and all his prickly brooding.

[smiiiirrrkkk. Ah, there's the pints. He'll just take a sip, thanks. Good old Kirkwall ale that never fails to taste like piss and ragwater.]

Quite well, actually. I rather enjoy not getting out into the fresh air, believe it or not. [a pause, then:] Though I suppose I can admit I miss the excitement running with you would create. It's too quiet up here sometimes.