At some point, it had occurred to Ellis his unfair advantage. He is, after all, very accustomed to fighting in the dark. Bastien is not darkspawn; no part of him pings off Ellis' consciousness to prompt him turn or duck. But as it turns out, even with all this time spent above ground, Ellis still retains those same instincts that shift focus, rely on sound instead.

There's no reason to share this, knowing that this exact skill is what Bastien is attempting to relearn, to go without.

It's a close, narrow space. Ellis' gambeson is bunched on the floor, beneath an overturned chair. At Bastien's word, he palms briefly down his own torso, mapping out where fists had landed.

"What do we win?"

Odds are good it would not be Ellis claiming a victory, though he likes to think it will be a close competition.