She reaches out and runs her fingers briefly through Grey Wind's soft fur as he passes, giving the wolf a smile. He is strangely gentle, not unlike her mabari would be, and she knows in her heart that he is a reflection of the man who sits beside him. He is regal and kind, fierce and loyal. She respects both of them equally.

Neria lifts her gaze to Robb as he sits and she shakes her head. "I can no more stop my dreams than I can ask the sun to set in the east and rise in the west. It is a sickness in my blood and I will carry it until I pass from this world." Here, she pauses, looking into the fire. "...Until I pass from this world for the last time," she amends, for she has died during these Jaunts before and will do so again. She does not fear death. But one day, she will show the signs of corruption and everyone will know the sort of monster she became - as all Wardens do - to combat the Blight in Thedas.

She chuckles softly, the sound mirthless. "I would not object to having him at my side," she says, grateful but also teasing. "Still, I think he would prefer to remain beside you instead." She reaches out once more to stroke down Grey Wind's flank. "Though you would make a fine companion, I do swear," she says pleasantly to the direwolf.