Better Stew

"Don't you think it's dangerous?" Cassandra narrowed her eyes, but the figure who called himself Cole had disappeared, as though he had melted into the tapestry of the world.

The Iron Bull took another bite out of the apple Dorian had handed him. "Nah. We need all the people we can get."

"Is he people, though?" Dorian leaned back against the castle wall, his face unreadable.

"Doesn't matter. Throw him in the pot. Different meat makes the stew better."

"Delightful," Cassandra muttered. Dorian laughed. But Bull was watching the Inquisitor, meeting her eyes. Ah yes - there was a smile there.