AN UNCOMFORTABLE FAMILIARITY [OPEN]

Was Fenris actually annoyed he didn't get much recognition for his efforts fighting alongside the Hero of Kirkwall? Not necessarily. But he swore if one more rich snob had turned their nose up to him, judging the elf for merely being in their presence... Well, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't lose his temper. He'd certainly never hear the end of it from Aveline, already on a tight rope with the whole "stolen mansion" ordeal. Raising his hand up against nobles? Say it ain't so! He could care less about titles and the like, even if he recognized that they were and always would be a part of life. That didn't necessarily mean he would take being talked down like a dog lightly.

Fortunately the snotty woman had already carried on, seeming none the wiser to Fenris' tense demeanor, or simply just not caring. Either way, he carried on through the much cleaner and semi-welcoming streets of Hightown, giving a acknowledging nod to the guards he passed by, a sort of gesture he'd adopted to assure them he wasn't up to any trouble. It was kind of annoying he had to do that, but it was better than having them constantly watching him, waiting for the elf to make a wrong move. It didn't seem his relationship with their Captain mattered much and they'd likely never truly trust him, then again she'd assured him plenty of times that she would hold her job above him anyway if it boiled down to it, so he supposed he couldn't be too surprised. As long as he behaved, and he didn't hurt Zaria, they would remain friends. He couldn't always guarantee to behave, but he tried very hard to refrain from harming Hawke in any way. Unfortunately they... he slipped every now and then, but she seemed to be able to help him back up every time.

He sighed at that thought, considering stopping by the estate, even pausing in front of it, but decided to carry on his way for now. They hadn't been in one of their major fights, just a little spat where Fenris found himself with a decent excuse to step out and get some air before he'd let his temper get the best of him. He really needed to learn to control himself, but oddly it seemed with age he was getting more short-tempered. He half wondered if his markings had something to do with that, though never indulged in such thoughts for too long. Thinking about the workings of the lyrium beneath his skin just brought more unpleasant thoughts with it, and quite frankly he didn't want Hawke worrying too much about it. He doubted there was much that could be done about it anyway, so no sense worrying over something that couldn't be fixed.

Eventually he sat himself down on one of the free benches, comfortably in the shade of the building behind it and relatively secluded, giving him a moment to just relax for a bit and get off his feet. He'd maybe hang out a bit longer before deciding whether to swallow his pride enough to head back to Hawke's estate, or to go to his own. Either way, for the moment he merely sat back and closed his eyes. He looked quite vulnerable, but the elf was always alert and would not be so easily caught off guard.