When the Inquisitor returned, Cole was at the gate waiting. He didn't speak, just took in the feelings, memories, impressions, pains.
He felt Krem's pain in The Iron Bull's worry, the way his ribs ached as he breathed and the breastplate dug in but cradled at the same time. There were flickers of the deeper wounds, the way his chest felt too big in the wrong ways, the frustration of the leather vest under the armour, but those weren't worse than usual.
When they came up the path, Cole wanted to be there, but he had to be on the rafters at that moment, waiting for the injured bat to show itself so he could catch it and untangle the string from it.
Which was why he turned up in Krem's quarters through the window with a bat clinging to the front of his shirt. He was quiet and unexpected, but he spoke nearly immediately. "You'll regret sleeping without undressing and having your ribs bound, but it feels like my body's made of lead. Do you want me to go get a healer?"
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He felt Krem's pain in The Iron Bull's worry, the way his ribs ached as he breathed and the breastplate dug in but cradled at the same time. There were flickers of the deeper wounds, the way his chest felt too big in the wrong ways, the frustration of the leather vest under the armour, but those weren't worse than usual.
When they came up the path, Cole wanted to be there, but he had to be on the rafters at that moment, waiting for the injured bat to show itself so he could catch it and untangle the string from it.
Which was why he turned up in Krem's quarters through the window with a bat clinging to the front of his shirt. He was quiet and unexpected, but he spoke nearly immediately. "You'll regret sleeping without undressing and having your ribs bound, but it feels like my body's made of lead. Do you want me to go get a healer?"