The next reading she gives him is not a book at all. Instead it is a rambling quasi letter-essay of her own writing, which goes on for ten front and back pages in Wysteria's (frankly) lovely handwriting ruminating in the connective tissue between a selection of five of his carefully recorded Ferelden stories with a series of similar from Orlais. Questions posed (and debated) include: The effect of the Orlesian occupation on stories passed down from Almarri oral traditions; where in this do the Avvar figure?; how significant is it that these stories has assumed Orlesian traits, but the reverse seems so much less common?

(A note in the margins alongside that last bit: 'Mr. Ellis, Have you known a single Orlesian who wasn't at least a little dreadful?')

Towards the ends, the essay once more turns into a letter. It says:

...all of which, I suppose, is to say that I'm quite thankful for all the work involved with copying down the stories in question. I believe I may even consult Lady Asgard or, Andraste preserve me, Monsieur de Foncé on the subject. I could afford to have some subject on which to engage the man that does not involve either our work or his truly insurmountable ego. I believe he would relish in the opportunity to treat me as a child, and I am learning to take advantage of how high he holds his nose in the air.

Your Friend,
W.A. Poppell

P.S. Do you enjoy poetry, Mr. Ellis? I read a piece by Tatervallian Tantaven Tantervalen (?) Chantry Brother who evidently spent his boyhood traveling and some of the lines reminded me pleasantly of that field trip we took last week with Mr. Stark and Mr. Fitz, that week end when the weather was so pleasant and Mr. Stark arranged to nearly fall off that cliff. I have copied it on the facing page and marked the lines.

(They are in relation to the weather, less so the cliff. In case you were concerned.)