“I don’t know if I’d agree to that. Survival plays a part, of course, but so does power. Mostly on the villain scale. I’ve seen some truly heinous acts done in the name of it.” And committed a few herself, though she takes comfort in having boundaries. Flexible, flighty boundaries, but boundaries nonetheless. The enemies she’s faced do wonders for self-esteem.

She pinches the bridge of her nose, feigning annoyance that’s obviously put on for show. The book isn’t half as bad as she makes it out to be. Anything that feeds her huge ego has to have some merit. “If you’re really going to read it, don’t ask me about the ogre. Anything else is fair game. Especially the dragons. Always dragons.”

And the feeding of the ego continues, and Hawke can’t help the swell of her chest. It’s only dampened by the lack of magic to display. Word of mouth doesn’t do it justice. But there is something… “I can show you, if you’d like.” A pause, then, as she throws up her hands to clarify, “Not real magic, obviously. But the motions I go through to cast. It’s just twirling a staff around, really. Or a stick, in this case.”