Indeed, I am here. I have been so for a little over a month, by my reckoning, but some mornings I still swear I can smell the scent of a wet mabari. Your country does not leave one easily, it seems.

[If there's a bit of a teasing gloss on the your part for Ferelden's new king, well, it goes with the territory. He doesn't seem too worried by Alistair's jaunt into places not the throne, but it's a) Zevran and there's b) Anora.]

I believe I am now entirely outnumbered by Wardens, however. If you should find Wynne and her magical bosom while you're in the ship, I would welcome even the attempts to save my soul that seem to go along with it.