If there is any part of her which is lacking in confidence, her thumbs at least are unaffected. The salve is rubbed into parched skin until his hand and fingers are flush from the friction of brisk, no-nonsense handling.

"Of course I know what that means."

In a sense. The sky goes black; crops rot in their fields; the sweep of darkspawn progresses unimpeded and what becomes of the places left in their wake and the industries which were fished or farmed or traded by people no longer in residence? These as issues of economy too.

"Give me your other hand."