-- "Typically, I like to treat a lady to dinner before she sees me without pants," he joked reflexively, an attempt to hide his embarrassment from being caught so off guard by a perfectly reasonable request. "But I suppose it's unavoidable this time." Solas found a log to sit on while he --

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-- then shot a look of concern at the Lady. "You're a vampire, aren't you? Is the smell going to bother you?"

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— healers on hand later, Solas dismounted Thresher with a quiet wince. The wound on his leg was a persistent annoyance, but others likely had worse injuries. He would worry about himself later. Lady Ducayne’s question, and her gaze, caught him by surprise. “Oh,” he said, unsure whether the —

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— butterflies that exploded in his stomach were from nervousness or a different emotion altogether. “My name is Solas. No fancy title or anything.” Anymore. “Just Solas.”

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-- its tracks with a clearing of his throat. "You should never send men to battle without an experienced healer on hand. Even if you're, uh, not quite human..." he regarded her sharp canines with reverence and curiosity. Vampires weren't common in the regions he'd lived, but it was unmistakable. --

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