For a moment, Lavellan forgets his own anger, startled by the phenomenon of the motes. Almost eight months here, and still he's blindsided by the simplest things. Sometimes he feels like he'll never catch up.

He's not winning any points with Rinzler as it is, he knows. So, really, what's losing a few more?

"What was that?" Though, actually, that's not really what he wants to ask. The mechanisms of it don't matter. "What did it tell you?"