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“They’re just—they’re not the right shape!” Anders exploded on one of those rare nights that Justice will let him live like a free human. “Dogs aren’t supposed to be big stumpy musclebags! They’re graceful and leggy, with long hair and thin snouts and tails down to THERE and noble eyes…” He trailed off dreamily, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling and his heart toward a summer day in the Anderfels.
Varric just sighed and signalled Moira for two fresh mugs of ale.