"I like to think it was," Lavellan admits, with a small shrug. There are a lot of things she'd like to think about her time as Inquisitor, but few that need be thought now, so far away from Thedas as she is. At his descriptions of the dragons of his world, however, her eyes climb upwards. High dragons were annoying, yes, but once you'd killed three one managed to get the feel of it. Barrier, spells, blade, fade cloak. Rinse, repeat.

She has a sneaking suspicion it is not as easy in his world, if he needs an entire military force to bring one down.

It's a careful balance, what he's describing, and she nods. "Have you made progress towards such a thing? I can't imagine something that can replace them perfectly would be easy to find." And it seemed silly to use his measure of progress as a mark towards her own -- if he can find some impossible goal, perhaps she can too.