It's just as well Hawke, and it was Hawke, he was certain of it, gave up the assault on the beast. Dorian was having embarrassingly little luck climbing higher than the lowest branches and finds his way to the ground much more easily than he did even the lowest boughs. He straightens his jumpsuit as he falls in with her. There was no pride in running, certainly, but even less so in getting trampled and gored by a rabid whatever that was due to sheer arrogance. He'd save his fall for something with a bit more flair, thank you very much.

When they'd found the thicket, he groaned and took a deep breath before jumping for a low-hanging and hopefully sturdy branch. Oh, thank the Maker it held! He was breathing hard as he pulled himself up, but he was out of harm's way for now.

"Hawke." He paused for a moment to catch his breath and to give the commentary the proper amount of brevity. "That may have been the worst rescue I've ever seen." And by that, he means thank you, of course.