"When I have the time, I need to draw some things for you. Symbols are symbols, I don't break them down into the bits that make them unless it's a message." That's a sailor's thing, a lesson from maps more than anything else, bits of her culture but when does she find the time for any sort of thing? In passing, when the hour is late, when Korrin lies next to her in bed so she can trace them on her skin but they're nonsense patterns then when Araceli is trying to settle herself for a few hours since she still can't sleep all in one sitting like most folk. It's harder to talk about the Inquisition being a good thing all the time for her: it was Korrin's choice, it was...it was Araceli's choice to pledge herself but there's a life elsewhere too, so she smiles, dipping her hands into the water to clean the dirt from under her and off her palms.

"I saw that, when I went to drop off what I got in Rivain." Translation: she nearly fell over a stack of books and assorted nonsense but she spotted it. At least he won't freeze when the worst of winter comes screaming down on them because Araceli remembers how terrible her first months in Skyhold were. "Maybe an octopus, most of the body where my ankle meets my foot then the arms can stretch down, close to my toes. So many things in Thedas are so bloody, I don't know if I want that on me for the rest of my life. Everything else is something I love, a map of who I am, where I've been. Not just physically, but a map of me, what makes me who I am." A shyness slides into her tone since well, to so many people a tattoo is just a tattoo, even back home in other nations. It doesn't mean what it does to a Castilean.