"Unfair evocation of giant spider imagery. I call foul."

She pauses before entering the great hall, popping the last bite of sandwich into her mouth, licking her fingers clean of juice, and then smoothing her robes and tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear.

Liranan's cheerful yip can already be heard from somewhere off to the left.

As can a sharp female voice, tinged with an accent that is distinctly not Fereldan.

"And I can see why the interest in flowers, suddenly."

That gets muttered under her breath, and then she steps into the room, her walking pace picking up into something a lot more brisk and less rambly.

"Velanna. Report?"