"There is." His own assurance. "A grand plan." Not that everyone agrees. Certainly not most Rifters. Or...much of anyone. Not in the way he sees it.

Blessed by Andraste, she brought each one here, hand-picked, special. Woven out of the stuff of dreams and reality both to make a difference. It brings Mobius comfort if no one else.

He drops his hand, nods once, takes an easy step back. "You can ask me more later. Think everyone's starting to gear back up to get going." Later, at least, might mean not as sore, not as present and open and aching. Will give him time to sort himself better.