Requisitions Officer: Dispatch for you. *hands over letter*
Wyn: *Depressed sigh as she opens it* It’s not the same…why did Josephine do this to me?
Letter: Dearest Wyn,
You probably were expecting this to be from Morris, but it’s not. Well, it sort of is. This part isn’t. Sadly, I can’t make a habit of this otherwise I’ll probably get locked up again and the condition of our jail concerns me.
I couldn’t let that tit Morris have the last laugh. Not when my Inquisitor is off saving the world. My Inquisitor…feels funny and exciting to say. A bit like a dance that comes from your belly. Your friend Sera laughs at me and says I bounce when I’m walking the yard during my patrols and that I’m scaring people when I smile. I think she’s full of shit. Oh well. At least she isn’t “borrowing” from me anymore.
Leliana tells me you’re in Crestwood. There’s darkness there that goes beyond worry. I wanted to check in and tell you I love you. Enclosed is the list from Ser Morris. Even though I’m not serving you here anymore, his requisitions are just as important as the ones that came from me.
Except for this one: You. Please come back.
Wyn: *Folds it and puts it in her breast pocket. She sinks down to the soggy ground, leaning against the broken frame of what had been a house and pushes her helm off her head. She runs a wet hand through her platinum locks and lets months of agony, frustration, visions of a bloodied Threnn running for her life finally get to her. She is so angry. So incredibly angry at this, at everything. All she wants is to go home. Not to Skyhold, where more agony and irritation await her, to her Clan and the green meadows with the wavy grasstops that she misses, the woman she loves in tow; to be rid of this once and for all*
Cassandra: *Gently* Are you all right?
Wyn: *Composes herself and wipes the tears from her eyes, covering the wound in her soul* Yeah. *Clears her throat and uses her staff to help her back to her feet. Numbly* Let's do this and get out of here.