She looks down, winds her fingers together, more for something to do with them than anything else. "I- I don't think you need- setting on fire?" she says, hesitant, but- almost teasing. "Maybe the tips of your hair?"

Alistair gasps in mock horror. "No. No! Anything but the hair!" He laughs.

Blaze ducks her head, but giggles along with him, still not entirely relaxed, but looking much more so than she had when she came over.

Alistair makes a pleased noise once his laughter ceases. He feels a lot better. 

"Hungry? It's just more jerky, but sometimes Anwen will kill something while she scouts so we might have fresh meat tonight?" He goes to his pack.

She takes a breath, reminds herself he was joking earlier, meant nothing by it. "Please, thank you, sir."

Alistair furrows his brow. "There is no one alive beside you that has ever called me sir. I don't look that old, do I?" 

He brings out some food for them both, grabbing some extra to pass around to the others. "I would actually call Azry 'ma'am' if it wasn't for the fact that since there's only three Wardens, chain of command doesn't particularly need to remain intact." 

"I- I'm sorry, it's habit. I'll- try not to. Just- hard." (It's not really scared, just- a report of the fact that it's a habit.)

Alistair smiles good-naturedly. "Well, few more weeks around us and you'll forget all that formality. We're the least formal people you've ever met. And that's coming from me!"

She laughs, although it's a little confused. "As you say."

Alistair grins charmingly, and then starts handing out food around the camp. 

She smiles back and looks around, partially to see if Zevran is busy.

Zevran is eating his own share, but his head is pressed to Azry's while they go over a map. He's tapping a portion. Azry says something that makes him laugh, so he slings his arms over her shoulders, hugging her.

She considers, and then approaches them.

When she gets close enough, Zevran sees her, grins, and lets go of Azry to wrap her in one arm.

Azry does the same.

Zevran turns big, happy eyes on Blaze. "Snow," he says seriously.

She ducks her head a little, but lets them hug her.

She tilts her head at Zevran. "Snow?"

“Snow!”

“What he’s trying to say is, by tonight we’re going to be high enough into the mountains to hit the snowfall. Luckily after that we should get to Orzammar fairly quickly tomorrow.”

“Snow,” Zevran agrees. 

"-I've never seen snow before."

“Either have I! This is going to be exciting!” Zevran, indeed, is practically vibrating with delight. 

“What’s to get excited about? It’s cold and wet and makes you feel eight times as tired.”

“Do not ruin the magic of this for us, Tabris,” Zevran says, flicking one of Azry’s pointed ears. 

Blaze giggles quietly.