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Leliana had managed to pull her horse around before it had caught a glimpse of the foes they faced, but the smell was still strong, musky and just wrong somehow, and it wasn’t going to be long before she was fighting her mount as well as the wolves. She slid from the saddle and slapped the mare on the rump; panicked, it ran off into the woods. One wolf took off after it with a howl, but Leli knew her horse was one of the fastest in the army’s stables – she’d probably be fine.That left her with – she thought about it for a moment; had there been six wolves total, or seven? – three wolves, probably, though she could only see two from where she stood, not counting the immobilized one. Nocking another arrow, she fired at the nearest one even as it leaped at her, and it fell, whimpering, at her feet, black blood pumping out from a wound in its chest. The last wolf that she could see was on her before she could do anything else, its mouth closing around her left forearm, crushing it; she. It's a photo of Lisa and me, at the beach, taken about three years ago. She's wearing a terrycloth wrap, but it's open slightly, and the bananna- yellow bikini she's wearing can be barely glimpsed. Her face is tan, and her smile is wide and eager. It's obvious that we'd had a fun day at the beach, the two of us, and her arm is casually slung around my waist. I'm wearing jams in the picture, and I've got a towel draped around my neck. You can see the top of my hand on Lisa's shoulder, and I'm looking at the camera. Lisa's looking at me, with this stupid dreamy expression on her face.That single picture sums up our entire relationship. She was always looking at me, and I was always looking elsewhere. She'd gotten tired, apparantly, looked elsewhere, and seen someone else looking back. And now they were looking at each other, and I was stuck staring at a goddamned picture on my desk.I look at the phone again, then back at the picture. How long, I wonder. How long have I been in love.
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