He shouldn't laugh at that, any of it, but he does. The sad thing is Dorian isn't wrong. That's exactly the sort of thing they'll think or say and another reason he's determined that he leave before they get here, even if it means tying him up and shipping him out forcibly.

"They're hard to find these days anyway. We Fereldans ate all the cats when we got here after the Blight." Not all of them. Most of them.

He's warmer with them actually touching, solid leans in shoulder to shoulder and arm to arm. He's not habitually a leaner. It's doubtful he would be now had they not had such an emotionally fraught night. It's this release of the tension that allows it, a few stolen moments of normalcy and conversation, the waves and the whales, and Maker only knew what else. He's grateful for it.