[Fenris watches him in silence, debates even slamming the door in his face. That would bring some relief to all of this, but it wouldn't do much good in the long run. They're going to be stuck on these ships for the foreseeable future, after all. Even Fenris can't expend his energy loathing someone every second of the day.
...Not so much any more, anyway. At least living away from Thedas has done wonders with his patience. Small mercies.
After what feels like an eternity of staring, he reaches out to take the wine and the slug. ]
[Fenris finally reaches for the bottle and Hawke feels like he can breathe again, at least a little. A start, like he said. Not leaps and bounds, but a start. It's all he can ask for.]
Enjoy it in good health. I can get more, if you like it. Or try anyway.
[That one had cost him a pretty penny, but it's worth it, if it can keep the door open even a crack. Maybe at some point, they can get to where they can actually share a bottle and talk.
[That could be a good noise or a bad noise. It's always really hard to tell with Fenris. Maybe a mix of the two? Still, he takes the wine and the slug and that is a start. A small one, but a start it is. He still looks as tense as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but he's not over the edge with rage, either. ]
[It's more a promise than any sort of confident declaration, trying to reiterate to Fenris without repeating himself that he is trying. That he's come to Fenris on the proverbial bent knee to try and make things as right as is possible.
Of course now he's awkwardly still standing outside of Fenris' door not sure what to say. He's certain any suggestion that they do share and talk will be met with a sneer so he doesn't ask, even if he wants to.
He shuffles his feet a bit, clearing his throat, waiting for Fenris to make the next move, which is a weird feeling. Usually Hawke's the one to move first in all cases.]
[Fenris turns to go back into his room, ableit with the slug and the wine, content to leave it at that. Still, he pauses, looking over his shoulder at Adalwolfe. ]
Until next time, then.
[He doesn't offer any suggestion when 'next time' will be, nor does he say with with anything but his usual dour expression, but it's a shimmer of something. The tiniest slivers of hope. He heads back inside and closes the door. Bye Wolfe, byyye. ]
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...Not so much any more, anyway. At least living away from Thedas has done wonders with his patience. Small mercies.
After what feels like an eternity of staring, he reaches out to take the wine and the slug. ]
Fine. A start.
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Enjoy it in good health. I can get more, if you like it. Or try anyway.
[That one had cost him a pretty penny, but it's worth it, if it can keep the door open even a crack. Maybe at some point, they can get to where they can actually share a bottle and talk.
He won't count that particular chicken just yet.]
And thank you. For the chance.
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[That could be a good noise or a bad noise. It's always really hard to tell with Fenris. Maybe a mix of the two? Still, he takes the wine and the slug and that is a start. A small one, but a start it is. He still looks as tense as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but he's not over the edge with rage, either. ]
Now comes seeing if I regret that or not.
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[It's more a promise than any sort of confident declaration, trying to reiterate to Fenris without repeating himself that he is trying. That he's come to Fenris on the proverbial bent knee to try and make things as right as is possible.
Of course now he's awkwardly still standing outside of Fenris' door not sure what to say. He's certain any suggestion that they do share and talk will be met with a sneer so he doesn't ask, even if he wants to.
He shuffles his feet a bit, clearing his throat, waiting for Fenris to make the next move, which is a weird feeling. Usually Hawke's the one to move first in all cases.]
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[Fenris turns to go back into his room, ableit with the slug and the wine, content to leave it at that. Still, he pauses, looking over his shoulder at Adalwolfe. ]
Until next time, then.
[He doesn't offer any suggestion when 'next time' will be, nor does he say with with anything but his usual dour expression, but it's a shimmer of something. The tiniest slivers of hope. He heads back inside and closes the door. Bye Wolfe, byyye. ]