The nearby grass proves itself a good enough spot for her to drop down. As Fenris continues, she's glad she's sitting down. Nothing about what he's saying makes sense, nor did the fact he didn't show any sort of real recognition for her as far as she could tell.

Her brows knit tightly together and she places one hand on her forehead. "Carver died before we ever reached Kirkwall, Fenris. How is it that you can know him well?" His question draws a sharp, disbelieving laugh from her.

"Know him? He's my brother!" Surely Fenris knew that. No matter how she'd sometimes avoided talking about Carver's death, for as guilty as she felt about it, she'd never outright pretended he never existed.