Being needled with questions upon her arrival was something Hawke fully anticipated, but knowing they were coming did nothing for her nerves as the onslaught came. Every word was piercing, ringing in her ears, chewed up and spit out by her still-reeling mind in rejection. She took the offered shoulder in stride, at least, any turmoil going on inside kept well under wraps. The sensations were dulled by the numb feeling settled into her bones, anyway, and that numbing was more obvious than anything else.

“I killed someone.” The answer was a mumble, the words almost involuntary on her lips. Then came the repetition, louder, offering clarification. “I killed someone. I thought they had— Everyone. They didn’t. They just had this.” She kicked away one of the knives, indicating her prize. How lucky.