"You seem... unwell," Solas said, his voice low with a rare note of concern, his sharp gaze scanning their trembling form. The faint scent in the air made his posture stiffen, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. An omega about to start their heat. The room was still, oppressive with an unfamiliar tension. He stepped closer, carefully measured.

"This—" he began, halting as if weighing his words, "should not be possible." His hand lingered near his staff, not in defense but as though grounding himself, awaiting their reaction. Secondary genders and the related knowledge was completely lost with the Fall of Elvhenan.