Return to the Clinic
"I began to realize how simple life could be if one had a regular routine to follow with fixed hours, a fixed salary, and very little original thinking to do." - Roald Dahl
It had become the routine…Sparring, sleep in the sunshine, have a meal, track the assigned target, then end up at the clinic expending her reserves until she could hardly stand up anymore and could only stagger out to the sunrise for a nap before sparring again.
She might say that she needed a drink, but after the last binge that Hawke went on, she doesn’t know if that would be a good idea. That time someone was definitely singing children songs and the lyrics weren’t in Elvish or Common Theodosian.
A vacation would be nice, napping in a hammock over a warm sandy beach. She knows a perfect beach on Rialto Bay where the dolphins played. Probably couldn’t fit it in the sparring schedule…
She did check to see that the lights in the clinic were out. But because she was tired, and this danger had become routine, she neglected to take her usual careful precautions of listening at the door, testing said door, and sensing for nearby lyrium drinkers (ie Templers) and/or Wardens or other riff raff before entering. She climbed the crates, grabbed the top of the wall, swung her leg over and dropped to the other side. Things weren’t quite how she expected when she landed.
I've stopped tracking this. Please message me if you post any new comments and I'd be happy to play here again :)