The night was cold. Snow had begun to fall once again and most soldiers and mages were held up in their tents. The only shelter they had. The few who weren't were trying their best to pick up morale and laugh and joke. Yet, in the middle of the camp, the commander argued with his fellow leaders.
Dorian huffed, leaning on a tree, holding logs as he watched them argue. It was no surprise that they were arguing. An archdemon did just destroy their Haven. And injured the Herald horribly. The mage inhaled sharply as he thought. Alexander. He pushed himself from the tree and quickly walked to a tent, that seemed bigger then the others.
Inside was the Herald, he has been laying there for almost four days. He was alive, just not..."alive". The Tevinter placed the logs down and sat on a chair next to the unconscious elf. He sighed deeply. Dorian stared down at him.
Alexander's ears twitched which caused the mage to stare intensely. The Dalish Elf was found, weak, bruised and almost dead in the snow. Once Dorian had seen him, his heart stopped. He thought he was dead.
Dorian looked over Alexander's body, frowning. He hoped he was okay. Dorian had become close with the elf. He even considered him a friend. Dorian snorted and smiled weakly. He had only a few that he gave that title to. "Friend..." He said under his breath, then scoffed and crossed his arms. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Sweet dreams Herald." He said quietly, before drifting off.
