Cullen likes him well enough by now to find himself hoping he doesn't ever have reason to regret that arrogance. He'd hate to see this man consumed by a demon or worse. He falls into step with him easily, pausing only long enough to shut and lock his office door for the night.

"Thank you. Agreed. I keep telling myself one day I'll see the proper side of a sleep schedule again." As much as he ever does with the nightmares. He's grateful in a strange way that he's so used to functioning at a deficit, or these past weeks might have killed him.

"The quarters you have are adequate? I've been meaning to ask and keep getting sidetracked." Their footsteps echo on the stone. The carpet runner was taken up some time back, bloodstained and scorch-marked beyond cleaning. Carpet and draperies are so far beneath concern at the moment he hasn't looked into getting them replaced. When some in Kirkwall are doing without food and basic shelter in their crisis, how could he ever?