Fenris wasn't out doing anything in particular. Unlike in Kirkwall, here he tended to spend a good deal of time roaming around the City. He half hoped he might stumble across something that would help him understand this place and why he was here. So far that plan hadn't exactly panned out.

Dorian's clothing made him hard to miss, at least for Fenris. For him, Dorian stuck out as much as he, himself, did. The mage might not have white hair or pointy ears, but those clothes screamed Thedas, and more specifically, Tevinter. It was enough to make him stop and watch Dorian for moment with a mix of distrust, curiosity and sympathy. Watch, not stare unapologetically, definitely not. Nope. He also wasn't glaring in the least bit; he never glared.