She isn't sure how long she's been running this time, just that she needs to keep going. (She isn't sure where the Templars are, but she thinks she can hear them, and she can't risk stopping.)

She had, really, stopped processing her surroundings properly a while ago, just runningrunningrunning.

She's definitely startled to stumble into a circle of firelight, and just...stops. (She's exhausted and shaking, and doesn't look at any of the camp's inhabitants because she knowsknowsknows she's in trouble, that she's caught.)

The girl stumbles into camp, and any semblance of peace is broken. Weapons are drawn, magic called to hands and Azry charges to the front of it all, Alistair and the dog at her heels. 

But it's just a girl- an elven girl...and pregnant, by the looks of her. Wild eyed, worn and terrified beyond words. Azry knows this girl. Not her personally, but she has seen her like tumble into the alienage, grief-stricken and desperate. She will not have this girl join a legion of the dead.

"Stand down! Everyone, stand down. It's okay." Azry holds her hand out to the newcomer, keeping her eyes and voice soft. "You're safe. You're okay."

She flinches and hunches further in on herself. "I-i-" she has no idea what to do, what to say. "S-Sorry," she settles on eventually. "M'sorry."

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. No one here is gonna hurt you.” Azry crouches in front of the girl, but keeps her distance, not wanting to startle her. Her hands stay up, where the girl can see them. 

“What’s your name?”

It doesn't, really, seem to calm her down any. She rocks slightly, wrapping her arms tight around herself. But-

There was a question. She was asked a question. She needs to answer that. It takes her a little while to remember what the answer is. (She isn't called by 'her' name very often.) "B-blaze, ma'am," she whispers.

“Nice to meet you, Blaze. I’m Azry. Are you hurt? We have a healer, she can make sure you and the baby are okay?”

"I-" she shakes her head, more helpless than negative. "I- I'm- fine, ma'am. Would just waste-" Except, except she doesn't know her baby is fine, and whatever price they want would be worth it to know that. She rocks again, not sure how to go back and change her mind, and not sure- "I- my baby? I-"

“She’ll just make sure nothings wrong. You can trust her. She will only heal you. We swear.”

she calls over her shoulder. “Wynne! We need you!”

“Hey, Hey! It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“It’s all right, little one. Let’s check up on you,” Wynne says, hands glowing blue as she slowly reaches out to the young girl.

She's shaking, and flinches away slightly, but stays mostly still.

Wynne very gently lays her hands on the girl’s shoulders, letting healing magic pulse through her. She tuts quietly, her heart growing heavy as more and more injuries are revealed. 

“Plenty of bruises and a few bones that haven’t healed right. Some open wounds, they can be fixed now.” Wynne does so. “Malnutrition. But, your baby is fine. Once we get some food in you, and you get some sleep, you should feel much better.”

She tells Alistair to fetch some of the stew. 

"I- thank you, ma'am- I. You-" She wraps her arms back around her stomach. "I- I'm fine, don't need-" (the food) "I-" she rocks herself again. She doesn't want to think about the inevitable price.

“You definitely do, my dear. As does your little one. We don’t want either of you to starve.”

Wynne wraps an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Now. Let’s get you closer to the fire. You need to warm up.”

She doesn't quite flinch when Wynne puts her arm around her shoulders, but goes briefly, completely still. But she will let herself be guided, pliant in a way that is more than just exhaustion. (There was going to be a cost, there always was, but... but it would be worth it. For her baby to be safe, and healthy. That was all that mattered.)

Wynne guides the girl to the fire, and sits her down by it. She directs others in the camp to fetch blankets, Zevran gets sent to the river for some water and Alistair hands her a bowl of stew, which Wynne accepts.

"Now, I want this whole thing eaten while I keep healing you. Bowl empty, all right?" 

Wynne begins to work on the bruises, hairline fractures and scrapes she missed before.

She's hesitant to take the bowl, but does, and curls around it, almost like she expects it to be taken away.

"I-" she looks at the bowl, at how much is in it, nods unsurely. "Yes, ma'am."

(It's an order, even if it's more than she's ever been given at one time before, more than she thinks she's capable of eating, but she doesn't know when she'll get another chance.)

Pauses. "You- I. I'm fine without-" (being healed). "You shouldn't waste-" (any resources on me).

“Nonsense, dear. We want you and that baby at your healthiest.”

She notices the way the girl is wolfing down her food. “Woah, woah! Slow down. No need to rush, we’re in no hurry. Take your time.”

(It's for her baby, it's for her baby, it's for her baby. The cost is worth it.)

She flinches, and freezes, "I- sorrysorrysorry."

And...waits, until she's certain no-one is about to take the bowl from her, to resume eating, a little slower than she had been before.

“There’s no need to be sorry, dear. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Azry watches the girl, sees how she flinches and apologises, and bile builds in her throat. 

“Definitely signs of abuse. And humans say elves aren’t oppressed anymore,” she mutters bitterly. Alistair wraps an arm around her and squeezes, trying to comfort her. 

She blinks at down at the stew, not sure what to do with Wynne's words, and eventually just nods, continuing to eat slowly.

There's a sound of clanking armour, shouts and heavy booted feet. 

Blaze is still for a moment, closed in on herself, because nonono.

Then she scrambles to her feet, upsetting the bowl she was cradling, not even thinking about the mess and lurching away from the sounds because she needs to run.