[He snorts softly, less of a laugh and more of a breathless exhale, and will realize only later that he's missed the joke. They live like mayflies, and he thinks— oh, who knows? That it's some slam against humans and their stubborn insistence on warmongering, perhaps. It doesn't matter. He breathes the noise out because it's a point of connection between the two of them, and right now, Astarion needs all the handholds he can get.]

It does not seem it right now, but Kirkwall is surprisingly forward-thinking.

[A pause as he evaluates that statement, and amends it to:]

Well— it is less awful than some of the other countries, which is almost the same thing. Better here than Tevinter. Or Orlais.

[He thinks of adding just why Orlais is a nightmare, but you know what, one thing at a time. Astarion need not know that some nobles still think hunting elves is a fun pasttime when you can't get good game. One horror at a time and all that.]

But you are not wrong: nightmare is an accurate way to describe it. I will not deny that.

[Oh, no. There's such a long distance between how things should be and how they are, and no matter that Fenris firmly believes that dreaming of what <>could be is a fool's errand— still, he will not argue that this is right or normal.]

Are they . . . is it really equal in your world?