Writing utensils are so uncommon here that Hawke hadn't even considered the idea. So when Wanda pulls out something for her to write on, she brings her hand up to her head and sighs. Great one, Hawke. At least someone here is smart.

Taking the paper and pencil, Hawke leans over the table and begins to write in oddly precise penmanship for someone of her class. Blame her noble-born mother for that. When she finally turns the paper around and offers it back, she's written something simple. Nothing is peachy when your peaches vanish and steal your voice.