Large and green trees framed the broken trail the woman walked on. Brown road on the bottom, green trees on the sides, and red sky on the top; it would be an easy thing to remember, to recall such a pretty scenery. With her memory not quite like it used to be, simple things were wonderful for her. A breath of fresh air filled her lungs as she made her slow trek away from Kirkwall. Few sounds actually pierced the silence of the forest ridden trail: some birds making their way back to their nests, a chipmunk or two hopping from branch to branch, a few deer running off together to their group. The quiet, simplistic ways of nature was what made these trips so enjoyable and much more exciting than dealing with customers all day, every day.
Every so often, she did have to deal with people. That was the way it worked, after all. She'd leave to keep up with business connections, often taking a few supplies with her to trade along the way or to help secure new trading partners, so talking to people was unavoidable. Kirkwall, with all it's trade, was an ideal place to make a few connections, even if there were templars everywhere. Not that they were bad, of course! As a non-mage, she had nothing to fear from them, but she used to be a templar. An assumed dead templar, anyhow, saved by mages nonetheless. Every time she spent time around a templar, she had this odd feeling in the pit of her stomach that someone would recognize her and begin to question her why she was no longer a templar, what she was doing back in her family's business rather than helping her brothers and sisters with the mage effort. It hadn't happened yet, and perhaps it never would, but the confrontation scared her more than anything.
She used to have a purpose she believed in, back then. Save the mages from themselves, save the people from the mages. Templars would always be the first and last line of defense for both groups in the reign of terror of magic and the dangers it possessed. She grew up in a pro-Circle family so why wouldn't that be completely normal to her? It wasn't like she thought of them less than people, she simply saw mages as people that needed a higher level of competence and protection. Demons were drawn to them and a weak enough mage wouldn't be able to stop them. The kind of power that could unfold would be catastrophic. In fact, an insane amount of damage happened in the Ferelden Circle very soon after she left. Oddly enough, she felt lucky to have escaped that fate, even if it meant others were dead.
Alis sighed, her thoughts weighing heavily on her. Concentrate on the scenery, she tried to tell herself so she could focus, but as the quiet of the path settled in on her, something seemed different about it than it had been a few moments ago. She didn't hear the little noises in the silence that made it seem peaceful; it seemed more like the calm before the storm. Her muscles tensed and her hands hovered lightly above her blades and grenades. It could just be nothing. It could be absolutely nothing and here she would be, looking a bit stupid waiting for something to attack her when, amazingly enough, she was alone the whole time!
No such luck.
An arrow flew past her, barely missing her curly black hair as it missed her and struck the ground. In one swift motion, Alis grabbed her blades, her head looking side to side as quickly as she could to find the source of the attack. In the trees? On the ground? Not knowing where it came from made it hard to figure out which was to go: to cover or to stay put? With perhaps only a few moments to decide, the ex-templar went for an even safer route: run along the path she was already on. She was no fool. It might be only one or two, or perhaps a whole band of bandits. Or, worse, it could be the Dalish. She heard they were in the area and, golly gee, weren't too fond of humans. Whatever the case was, she knew she couldn't just jump in and hope for the best.
Oh, and shouting never hurt, either.