"What part of Tevinter are you from?" he asked idly. "And how about your family? Altus? Laetan?" And while his pronunciation of those words might not have been perfect, it was... close. Ish. Tevene taken through the Fereldan meatgrinder of accents. To most, he'd sound English of some stripe or other. To him, he just sounded... Redcliffe.

"My name is Alistair, by the way."

And he really needed to stop being so blunt. He did, he knew he did, but damn it, he was tired, and... And he needed to take Zevran up on that offer to sleep for a week.

After he ate, though. Ate and thought.