Things happen too quickly for her to properly process exactly what it is that's going on. She knows that she heard her name called a few moments ago almost too softly to be heard, and then again -- more certain, and more importantly -- more familiar. Carver's voice is enough of a shock to her system to override her immediate survival instincts as his body comes barreling towards her, as his arms wrap around her tight enough to constrict her breathing. She drops her staff straight out, the wood clattering to the ground noisily.

It isn't the strength of his arms around her that catches her breath in her throat. It's the solidness of the body pressed against her, the fact that the pressure against her doesn't evaporate like water when she blinks her eyes. She'd sworn that she'd seen Carver in the crowds during their first few years in Kirkwall, and even late at night in the Circle tower, but...this is different. When she blinks again, it's to keep the tears that are filling her eyes from blurring her vision. She shakes her body loose of the stiffness that had developed when he'd first hugged her and leans her head down to rest against his shoulder.

"Carver," she says finally, squeezing her eyes shut, "What's going on?" She doesn't bother to hide the confusion from her voice, for her brother -- her twin -- would always know. Part of her annoyance with him had always been her inability to tell him lies. Her hands find the front of his shirt, grasping desperately for something solid to hold on to.

"Are we dead?"