Though his body's no more than a psychic construct here, just as the cold itself is, Varric shivers and hunches his shoulders against the wind that tugs at his collar. His expression tightens a little as he watches the memory-Asa limping towards the long-dead fire; though he knows already how this particular excursion ended, it's all too easy to recall the concern that turned slowly towards despair as the hours of the storm raged on with no sign of her.

"Curly and the Seeker kept everyone moving," he replies. "We lost a few people to the storms, but they kept the red templar stragglers off our backs. I might have to change that part in the book - flight through a winter storm in the Frostbacks might be harrowing, but it's not an exciting read."