"No, she wasn't a mage. She was Avvar. They still speak to the spirits, invoke them. Solas called them hedgemages. The Maker's religion never reached into the mountains, never forced their magic into towers and circles and unnatural patterns. She didn't fear Cole's magic, but she told him to keep it hidden. To save him from the Templars."

He shakes off the thoughts, looking to the vanilla ice cream and going once more through the tiny motions. Scrape, lick and there's less outright shock, but he actually goes back for a slightly bigger sample. "It tastes softer. A cool breeze, not a hurricane." The spoonful he gets is still barely anything, but it's easily twice what he's had before.