hello Queenie, long time no see. For 6 sentence shenanigans, how about your Inquisitor feeling my level of frustration with how big the map is and how much of it is just fetch quests and collecting items in the middle of nowhere 🙏 They've got enough stuff to do!!

It was hard to say whether it was any one thing that did it - perhaps it was the sun relentlessly beating down on them as they tromped across the field, maybe it was the smell of wolf-spit and wet fur still clinging horribly to their clothes, or even still, one might think it was the fact the herbalist had sadly proclaimed (for the third time in a row) that no, sorry, they were just a few blooms of Crystal Grace short for what she needed - but whether it was any of those, a combination therein, or something else entirely, the fact of the matter remained.

The Inquisitor had had enough.

She gave no warning before she stopped, her hands splayed out as though trying to stop some invisible force as she squeezed her eyes shut as tight as they'd go. "This...is...madness," she said slowly, each word delivered like a punch to the gut; it broke the dam, however, and once that happened, there seemed to be no staunching it, her syllables picking up speed with each passing moment, "I am the Herald of Andraste - the Herald of Andraste! - and while I could be...closing rifts, or strategizing against Corypheus's forces, or uniting countries, or...or...overthrowing the entire Orlesian empire should I so choose, I'm out here walking in circles and collecting bear claws because a scrap of paper on the ground told me to?! Where is the sense in that - where is the sense in any of this?!"

Her voice echoed for a moment, the last crack of anger resounding like a lightning strike, but when finally it faded and only her strained breathing could be heard, Vivienne heaved an entirely feigned (but still rather put-upon) sigh and asked, "Darling, if you didn't want to help me find my book, that's truly all you had to say."

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!