Hawke springs back up and takes his hand without question. She's both lithe and sturdy, strength in her arms from carrying a bow and callouses all over her hands. "You? Old?" She laughs. "I have a few friends who would grimace if they knew you considered yourself an old man." It's not that he looks young precisely, but she knows old folks. She can almost hear Varric's droll commentary on the matter. Somehow Hawke herself manages to look young, or vaguely around her age, but the scars and eyes tell a different story. Survival against all odds has a way of wearing on anyone.

"You'd think the people behind whatever this is would pick a nicer way of introducing us. Hello, welcome to this giant lush cage we've put you in, make friends, stay alive, watch out for the drowning and the wild weather and monsters." Hawke read up at the inn. Mostly she skimmed and got bored, but she does have an eye for the dangerous notes. "Oh! I'm an idiot. Also I'm Hawke. Hello."