He shuddered once, blowing out a breath like a bull, but then he settled into it. It was colder than Skyhold - the sun there had been lovely at it's peak - but not unlike Haven.

And he was pleased, simply by Dorian's acceptance of it.

He would manage with that until he could return and dig out one of the extras he'd been sent.

Or at least he thought he could, until the next question caught him shorter of breath than the chill could ever hope to. Unprepared for it, it slipped in between his ribs with all the ease of a well honed blade.

He'd been trying so hard to avoid thinking about it. (Had been fixated on it.)

"Yes," came the answer after a long moment, gaze slipping toward Dorian's then away, fixing on the smoke the mage had found so fascinating before. "And no."