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[ From a woman who's usually so boisterous, it may seem odd that the change in her after hearing that news isn't the most obvious. One might occasionally expect some kind of outburst, a plea, but all that happens is that her hands clench into fists, the look in her eyes darkening into rage. The thought of Anders being in danger makes her feel physically ill, but she's good at hiding it.

Good at channelling her worry into anger, something far more worthwhile in this situation. Hawke swallows the lump in her throat. ]

I'll be ready. ... Thank you, for telling me.

[ He's right. Finding out the hard way would not make her very happy. ]