"More content. Comfortable." Perhaps happiness was the wrong word, but Solas cannot imagine many others.

He has been awake for as much time as she has been in Thedas - perhaps a handful of years longer, if that - but he understands the nature of this world. It is a physical manifestation of his own hubris, a glaring slap in the face to all that he had hoped to accomplish. Finding his own happiness had been difficult for him; is it so strange for him to imagine that it might be equally as trying for someone else?

Ignoring the image is easy enough. It does not do to dwell on things that shall not come to pass here; that is a being from her world, foreign and distant to him. Here the demons are of the Fade, of Corypheus' ilk, and he knows that is something he cannot lose sight of. He cannot glance away from what is taking place here.

Slow, careful eyes turn back to the woman at his side.

"I am glad for that," he admits, voice soft. "I would not have you unhappy for a single moment."