Hawke isn't surprised to hear some of the wanderers and random townsfolk gossiping as she passes, less surprised to hear them talk about slavers gone missing. Slavers dead. Elven refugees set free. She should have known who she would find after rumors like that. And a part of her did expect Fenris to wander back into her life boasting of the slavers he'd recently killed. A larger, more accurate part of her expected him to turn up randomly with that same sour look to his face, the look she had come to see as protective, whether it be of himself or even of her as a friend.

Somehow, despite their fundamentally different views on mages, the two of them managed to strike up a friendship and keep it. They've held onto it strongly after all these years and Hawke has always known she could count on Fenris to have her back, even against people like Meredith and the templars.

The sight of that familiar set of armor is what has Hawke tilting her head at first. A second later, the voice confirms it and recognition tinged with relief crosses her face. She hadn't wanted to be caught by anyone right now, but if she had to fail at being a stealthy mage, at least she's been caught by a friend.

"Fenris? When did you leave Kirkwall?" she asks, her usual dry humor sliding through. "Let me guess: Aveline finally convinced you to start paying taxes on that estate?"