With everything that has happened, Six knows she hasn't quite been herself. She hasn't had the hours to dedicate to training as she might have liked and she hasn't been able to pray to the same level that would have made her comfortable before; now she feels more adrift, more uncertain. Seeing Tevinter firsthand had been an uncomfortable experience to say the least and coming back to Kirkwall hasn't lightened that load even a little.

She spends a few hours each day with the griffon she had chosen to bond herself to, at least, and it calms her some. Two stays in her room when she comes up here, just in case he scares the poor creature, and it helps calm her. It helps centre her, just a little, and sometimes she thinks she can manage to pray, or find some peace within herself, even if Sarenrae is far from her.

The sound of someone coming makes her pause, stepping away from the wiggling body of the griffon, still nameless, that she had been tending to and bonding with, curious about who else might have climbed all these stairs. The familiar face or Marcoulf has her relaxing, a smile not settling on her but something soft soothing the edge of her features all the same, nodding as she sees him.

"Marcoulf. What brings you here?"