In the Ferelden wilds, there were trees, there were corpses, and there were caves. If you could find a cave that didn't have spiders or bears, it was a blessing, even if keeping it that way was sometimes more trouble than it was worth. But if you could, and you needed somewhere to hide where it was very hard to find you, that not many would attempt aside from the most devout and stupid templar, it was heaven for an apostate like Anders.

And, set up in one such cave, his very few belongings in his sack and a fire burning to keep him warm and aware, he had just settled down on an uncomfortable, wet rock, ready to cook the fish he had caught earlier, when he felt the veil shift, eyes turning to the edge of the cave, and swallowing.

He didn't sense demons, nor the taint of the darkspawn, and yet...there was something off about the shift, something that he hadn't felt before. Sir Pounce, who had some fish of his own, glanced up with his big kitty eyes and meowed at him curiously, Anders groaning. "Andraste's tits, you've got to look at me like that do you? Well, you're already sat down for dinner, I guess it would be rude to ask you go to check it out."

He heaves a sigh and pushes himself up, setting his fish to start cooking over the fire and grabs his staff, shaking his feathery pauldrons and robes in place before he makes his way out to the mouth of the cave to investigate.