"Transient? I wish." Anders scoffs, picking idly at the knees of his plain, borrowed robes. The state of dress they've been left in is almost too fitting for the parallels he's drawn in his mind. Funny how those details stand out so starkly to him, now.

"I'd have gladly taken a life of hardship, alone on the road, over being locked up in a tower, beaten and berated endlessly just for the crime of existing." There's no keeping the creep of anger out of his words, nor the slant of his expression, now, brow furrowing as he stares down at that skull, impassive yet endlessly entreating in its blank, dark gaze.

"Making yourself useful just to stay alive, though, I suppose we do have that in common."