[ When he arrived, Solas was, at least at first, rather put out. He had been rather busy and now he was tugged into another conflict, one he had no interest in whatsoever. The imps around him made noises and tried to tug him this way and that but he did little more then send them off with a stern, careful word, shaking his head and making great pains to ignore the pulls of the things around him - food, there, drink, a library somewhere, he's sure, with information, all the things that he should look into but finds himself wanting to ignore.

This is not the Fade; it is not the dreamland he is so accustomed to feeling and knowing. This is another reality, one that he has been drawn into, that is certain. Even now the creatures are trying to tug him here and there and he is frustrated, shaking them off and stalking to a far corner to think, to consider. He still has his magic, if nothing else, and his backpack, hanging off his shoulders and making his lips turn down into a frown even as one arm crosses another, his fingertips trailing over his chin carefully. This was due real consideration and he was only wary of how much time he had.

If this were any other time his first thought would be to search for the Inquisitor and their companions, but he doesn't imagine that to be the most open of places. Instead, he finds a chair and accepts the cup the imps offer him, taking a sip without looking -- until he realises that it's tea, his nose wrinkling as he shoves it to one side. ]

[ The locket turns on and all that is given is one small line of text; hardly the most conpicuous of things, but Solas is making an effort, at least. ]

[ WILDCARD! Feel free to run into Solas outside, in a forest or on the lockets c: ]