Hawke was very used to the strong and silent type. Granted most of her friends were mouthy, but there was Fenris, always Fenris. He could go weeks refusing to talk to anyone, and she'd normally show up at the house and talk to him until he snorted or responded in some way. She could tell he's processing so she tilted her head and waited, rather than just rush all over him with more observations. He's young and pretty and that was quite and impressive scar on his face. Definitely a blade. Ouch. Don't ask about the scar, Hawke, it's rude.

"No idea. There's information at the inn, a whole history of sorts written down. Seems like it's been a few years at least, but the place itself? Can't really be that young. Too much alive and evolved on it, I'd say." It was possible, sure, but unlikely. More likely that it existed and they were simply put into it, but she's not the sort of person to find proof on that or care too much about it. This wasn't the Fade, so it was fine. "There's dryer clothes in the bag they gave you, and there's rooms at the inn or houses you can just basically claim."

And then she had to ask. "That's an impressive scar. Looks like a blade. This one ...." She pointed at the scar on her eyebrow, old and healed by now. "Nearly took my eye out."