Sometime while Ted was reciting poetry, Cole had appeared, already sitting cross legged on the ground. He peered up at Ted under the brim of his hat, all his attention on him. Stories and poems were best when read aloud, Cole felt.

"Neither of them are right, not completely," he commented when Ted finished with the poem. Ted was an oddity to him, he couldn't read him at all. Solas had cut him out before, could Ted do that too? There was no way he didn't need some help.

"Why did you choose that poem?"