[ Bastien holds an answer in his mouth: that in his experience her issue has been more than she's exceedingly direct, and if he is understanding the shape of their disagreement correctly then she did tell him, but he—

and then he swallows it, in the face of that bubbling frustration, and resumes hair-stroking, fingers hooked to scratch By's scalp as he goes. ]

Well, if you are not suited to being friends, that is her loss. Sometimes that is how it is, you know? Oil and water. It doesn't mean anything is wrong with the oil or the water—whichever you want to be in this metaphor. I think you should be the water.

And she is not Thedas' definitive authority on what makes a man fun to talk to. [ He tugs a lock of hair. ] I am.