[He pours, the wine filing the glass; one that is much less fancy than the decanter itself, but their entire camp has turned into a mish-mash of things picked up here and there, not necessarily one item matching another. Astarion pauses as he thinks how to reply, much to Winter’s detriment if the warlock was expecting a concise explanation.]

I… Well.

[He fills his glass next.]

Yes, there is something wrong. And it’s a problem that I hardly know what to do with, and one that's been building for a while now.

[He’s certainly not going out of the way to ease anyone’s anxieties, but at least he has grace enough not to leave it hanging there.]

Can you guess at, perhaps, the last time I had a… a relationship with someone who wasn’t just a passing night of fancy, or a target to be brought back to my master? Someone who…

[Who means something,]

Someone truly important in ways beyond utility.