"Do not tell me you are from further along the timeline than I am- you are, aren't you?" He sighs as he leans back, using the rope and Alistair's weight to hold himself in place as he lowers the suddenly buoyant if not boisterous bastard down to the ground. "Before I woke here? We were in Denerim, enjoying a battle well fought and a victory well earned. Wine, Women, celebratory ravishings, promise of coin and possible future employment with the crown-"

Once Alistair is closer to the ground Zev steps off the branch, lowering himself as well.

"Perhaps you simply needed to want to come down, yes? Magic is a strange thing. An art of will. Probably for the best you had no skill for it."