Cullen shakes his head a little. "No, that's fine. Do as you'd like."
He picks up his tankard and, without another word, carries it over to the bar with a quiet thank you, Cabot.
At Cabot's laconic, sardonic Commander, Cullen heads for the stairs, to take the exit along the battlements.
Maybe he can sleep through as much of the next day as possible. Maybe he can throw knives. Do a limited calisthenics regimen. Write a letter to Mia striking a balance between the two he's already written. Figure out what he's going to do when Samson arrives at Skyhold.
no subject
He picks up his tankard and, without another word, carries it over to the bar with a quiet thank you, Cabot.
At Cabot's laconic, sardonic Commander, Cullen heads for the stairs, to take the exit along the battlements.
Maybe he can sleep through as much of the next day as possible. Maybe he can throw knives. Do a limited calisthenics regimen. Write a letter to Mia striking a balance between the two he's already written. Figure out what he's going to do when Samson arrives at Skyhold.