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Briaren sits near Zevran's bedroll listening to the sounds of his breathing and the pain that he refuses to vocalize as she watches the sunset while mixing ingredients together to make a health potion. Earlier before their return to camp, Alistair along with Zevran and herself had been injured in a bandit ambush.
He had claimed to be alright with a false smile on his face. Not that Briaren had believed him then, though she hadn't called him out for it. Not in front of Alistair. But upon their return to the camp, Zevran had collapsed between her and Wynne without making a sound and his face tight with the pain that he refused to voice.
So now Briaren sits beside him, working to gently ground down the herbs that she needs now for making a potion of healing that she learned from the Hahren of her clan just weeks before that trip with Tamlen to the cave where Duncan had found her.
She refuses to lose anyone else that has found a place within her heart.