Benedict is tall. He's not as tall as Jone, maybe, but he still positively Looms over most of Orzammar's population, the children in particular. He's constantly afraid of either banging his head on a doorframe or tripping over something unseen, but even with all that in mind, he's in pleasant enough spirits when he comes across a familiar face looming at a similar height.

"I'm no good at spitting," he informs her with a wary smile-- Maker forbid, the indignity-- but the yarn has him intrigued.