"Feels like the ground will never be solid again."

"Bad analogy when you're at sea. But it isn't always about waiting for the ground to be solid again. It's about figuring out how to keep moving even when it's not."

"True. What's ground?" 

Anders scrubs one hand over his face. "What do you do? To keep moving."

"Mostly I remind myself that my survival irritates those who would kill me. And I survive to spite those who would in any way attempt to diminish me."

"Living on in spite? Well. If it works," Anders says, and even manages a smile. "I suppose I'll have to find something like that. Or hang around for the sake of keeping the rest of you healthy."

"And then there's that. I keep going because if I didn't, my crew-" She stops, eyes going distant. "I can't abandon them to the what ifs if I wasn't here."

"You remind me a lot of Hawke. She'd never give up on her friends either." Anders searches Circe's face for something, and whether or not he finds it is beyond him. "Sometimes you have to live for other people."

"Sometimes that's all you have."

"Well, then. I guess I had better get to work endearing myself then."

"You're not doing too badly."

Anders rubs one hand over his wrist and laughs softly. "Thank you, Circe. That's kind."

That gets a faint smirk. "So. Do me a favour and don't terrify my ship again. You want to die? Come to me and I'll put a bullet in your skull. Quicker. Neater."

"Hmm, so the ship is sentient? Noted."

He puts a hand on the wall. "Sorry to scare you. I'll give you a head's up next time."

"Not sure if sentient's the right word. But she's...she's not inanimate."

There's a response. Something warm.

Anders sends back warm in return.

"And I'm sorry to you, again. I can't imagine I've been easy for you."

"Nothing in this life is easy. It's... got easier. Since we found the Shard."

"She does seem to make things easier."

"That she does. I suppose I should leave you to your thoughts. Unless you wanted to try shooting something."

"The little things you have are a novelty." Anders smiles wryly at her gun.

She slips it so that it hangs from her finger by the trigger guard. "More of a fact of life around here. And it's probably better you get used to them before you have need to defend yourself."

"I'll...see about that. I won't deny they're useful."

"Not scared?"

"Scared, no. Concerned, yes."

"Why?"