Falling out of the sky into the muck's a shit idea of well met. We've got birds you could ride but only if you're not fond of your liver or living long enough to talk about it to another soul. [Wiping her mouth doesn't move the little smirk.]. That dracolisk though, sounds like a pest or a daedra's idea of a jest, other one could be good eating; they poisonous? Most shit under there likes to bite or spit, it's being…
[Under her skin a wolf slain howls, her ears prick up at the name - old man I killed you, I sent you on, I am you now - and her breath is the ragged bark of a kicked hound. Laying out her bow to check it, the arrows, she doesn't look, can't look in the shadow of the name.
It takes a few minutes to convince her body to work. When did she sit next to a person last?]
No. Can't stand mead. [Which poses a problem: find a stream and drink, steal a skin from someone, figure out what she can make do with. Misses Valenwood with the savagery of a cracked bond beneath the teeth.]
Right. Dragon priest or close enough for him, don't know about them but falmer go on raids sometimes. Wretches.
no subject
[Under her skin a wolf slain howls, her ears prick up at the name - old man I killed you, I sent you on, I am you now - and her breath is the ragged bark of a kicked hound. Laying out her bow to check it, the arrows, she doesn't look, can't look in the shadow of the name.
It takes a few minutes to convince her body to work. When did she sit next to a person last?]
No. Can't stand mead. [Which poses a problem: find a stream and drink, steal a skin from someone, figure out what she can make do with. Misses Valenwood with the savagery of a cracked bond beneath the teeth.]
Right. Dragon priest or close enough for him, don't know about them but falmer go on raids sometimes. Wretches.