[ Mon Calamari. She doesn't say that sounds edible (... though it almost does) since that's an inappropriate response. Or at least one she'd expect out of a few of her close friends, and a fondness for them, on their own paths, fills her chest. There's more resolve behind her movements, but little more in strength. She's conserving what she can. ]
I was. I've never met one of your people before, Ibtisam. It is a pleasure, circumstances aside.
[ Tipping her head toward Ib, she adds: ]
I'm... Ellana. An elf.
[ Dalish, if she wanted to make a useless clarification; Ellana now, because she was always Ellana first. Lavellan would have been simple to call herself too, but there were parts of herself that were on hold in what looks to be a quest in getting back to her world, and to the place she belongs. Assisting "humanity" on this world does nothing for her or her people or her world, and its people. Who might also need to be her people, to an extent. (What an uncomfortable thought.) ]
no subject
I was. I've never met one of your people before, Ibtisam. It is a pleasure, circumstances aside.
[ Tipping her head toward Ib, she adds: ]
I'm... Ellana. An elf.
[ Dalish, if she wanted to make a useless clarification; Ellana now, because she was always Ellana first. Lavellan would have been simple to call herself too, but there were parts of herself that were on hold in what looks to be a quest in getting back to her world, and to the place she belongs. Assisting "humanity" on this world does nothing for her or her people or her world, and its people. Who might also need to be her people, to an extent. (What an uncomfortable thought.) ]