Many people tended to think that Alistair was not exactly the sharpest knife in the block. That was fine. If they thought that, they wouldn't bother him to try to be smarter. But one thing no one could say to him was that he wasn't thoughtful - at least, not anymore.
The snow was swirling around him, he had a decent notion of where things were, and still he trudged through it, calling out, "Hello? Hello! If anyone else is out here, I can help you to the Inn! Just call out so I can find you!"
Jumped Up:
How many bad ideas had he had in his life that started with him spotting something and going, "Ooh"?
More than he cared to think of, honestly, and that explained why, now, Alistair was clinging to a tree branch with both arms, legs too far away from anything to get purchase, and the ground... quite... quite a way down there, really...
"Um. Help? Someone? Please?"
Cold Call:
Yes, yes, it was snowing.
It was... well, it was snowing a not nearly as much as before, honestly, but he knew he should be indoors. He was very close to being indoors, as a matter of fact, standing just outside the inn. He could get back in quickly enough. Very quickly. But that didn't stop him from standing there, hand outstretched, watching snowflake after snowflake drift down into his hand, building into a little mound.
But after enough time had passed, his gaze drifted over to the railing at the edge of the steps that led up to the inn's porch. Not much of a railing. Not much of a set of steps, really. And yet...
Alistair Theirin | Dragon Age
Many people tended to think that Alistair was not exactly the sharpest knife in the block. That was fine. If they thought that, they wouldn't bother him to try to be smarter. But one thing no one could say to him was that he wasn't thoughtful - at least, not anymore.
The snow was swirling around him, he had a decent notion of where things were, and still he trudged through it, calling out, "Hello? Hello! If anyone else is out here, I can help you to the Inn! Just call out so I can find you!"
Jumped Up:
How many bad ideas had he had in his life that started with him spotting something and going, "Ooh"?
More than he cared to think of, honestly, and that explained why, now, Alistair was clinging to a tree branch with both arms, legs too far away from anything to get purchase, and the ground... quite... quite a way down there, really...
"Um. Help? Someone? Please?"
Cold Call:
Yes, yes, it was snowing.
It was... well, it was snowing a not nearly as much as before, honestly, but he knew he should be indoors. He was very close to being indoors, as a matter of fact, standing just outside the inn. He could get back in quickly enough. Very quickly. But that didn't stop him from standing there, hand outstretched, watching snowflake after snowflake drift down into his hand, building into a little mound.
But after enough time had passed, his gaze drifted over to the railing at the edge of the steps that led up to the inn's porch. Not much of a railing. Not much of a set of steps, really. And yet...
...It wasn't a lamppost, but...