She tucks her food back into her pouch, then steps back to his horse -- never taking her eyes off him -- and unhooks his own ration-pack.

She tosses this at him, less underhanded than a short, sharp throw.

"I don't think you'd be so blind as to not let anyone know where you were going."

Not to come among the Dalish. Not with her phylactery. Not --

"And I don't want any more hunters on my tail, not here. Not coming for my Clan. We have enough of that without someone looking for you, too, and with suspicion in their minds."