Alistair lapses back into quiet.

The trail curves, bringing them close to the shoreline again. He breathes deep, taking in the scent of mud, of clear water, of healthy vegetation -- like Skyhold's garden multiplied for miles in every direction. No wonder Cullen likes to hang out in the garden during his down time.

With some embarrassment, he realizes a tiny tense spring has uncoiled under his ribs, now that he's back under the trees. Easier here than under open sky.