Him. As always. Him. She had heard stories about how he had fought in the war. How he had seemingly rose from the dead. And, like old legends, she was here to revenge for the dead he had slew. Revenge, bright as a newly light fire, burned in her. Every waking morning and night was filled with the lust, but not for men and drink, but for blood and the stench of victory. She had helped many along to the void, and she new this man would be no different to the others. Or, at least, she hoped so
Gayle sighed, running a hand through his hair. It had been a week. A week of waltzing through the gods-damned forest, with nary the clothes on his back and his weapons. At least he had a certain Bosmeri accompanying him, though she mostly stuck to travelling through the trees opposed to the road. ’Well, at least there’s a nice view,' he thought, referring to the girl that he had, admittedly, taken quite a fancy to. Fae, girl in question, slipped down from beneath the branches and landed with cat-like grace, though the expression worn on her face was concerned, even mildly frightened. "There is someone up ahead, and the forest does not like their presence," she warned, placing a hand on Gayle’s arm, "Be wary onwards. I shall accompany you on the road, for I cannot protect you from the trees. And I will not hide behind the leaves and watch you get hurt." Gayle felt a blush creeping up on his cheeks, and quickly started walking again, this time with more haste. Not a mere kilometer away, they were rather rudely stopped by a Redguard woman. She was rather plain of appearance, but was armed to the teeth, and looked dangerous. Fae was wary around said woman, whereas Gayle was downright hostile. "And what are you doing in this forest?" he asked, keeping a steady hand on the hilt of his battleaxe, "And before you say, ‘It does not belong to you,’ no. It doesn’t. It belongs to her." He gestured to Fae, who was grinning… Though it held her signature manic undertones that hinted at the fact that she was not at all sane. "Now," the male Altmer started, "State your business or be on your way."
She had heard them coming, and she didn’t know whether to cry out in pain, or to leap in joy. Blood streamed though the gaps in her fingers, falling to the ground with a soft…pat…pat…pat.
Though, through all this pain that clouded her mind, she still managed to stand, war hammer at the ready. When they lept out of the forest, she held her mouth in a defiant thin line. She would stand for this last battle. "My name is Sylvia murkblood. I come to join the thalmor" She lied. "I know it is not normal for one of my race to join, but I want to help them. You could always use me on your…" She faltered, pain making her grit her teeth, but she continued. "Pack. I am strong…" Her eyes where glazing over now. "And…Cu-Cunning." Her mind was going blank, and her world was swaying. "I…I" She had helped (by their reluctance, of cors) Many into the void, but she grew afraid now, and she swayed. Her hands shoke as they held her stomach together, and with a small weak prayer, she fell to the ground.
Gayle cursed, kneeling down to help the woman. Fae made a noise of disapproval, but knelt down as well, her hands automatically travelling to the wound that had opened and alighting with healing magic. "I don’t trust her," the womer stated, scowling as she worked, "There is a reason the forest did this to her. I know not what it is, but it is there nonetheless." The Altmer furrowed his brow, his eyes following the way her hands moved effortlessly over the other female’s wounds, and how a small streak of glowing light followed her fingers. "To trust a stranger is foolish, yes, but I do not think she was trying to hurt us," he said slowly and carefully, "She wasn’t lying when she said her name… That indicates that she was indeed not hostile. Though, you are correct in being suspicious of why the forest didn’t like her… Wait… If it was the forest who did not like her then… Fae, did you do that?" Fae grinned, showing her teeth, “Perhaps.”
Lights flicked in her vision, shadows bowed over her in a menacing way. Her insincts told her to get up and stab them all, to trail there guts around the forest and string them from trees to trees, like fairy lights. But her fingers or limbs would not obey her and seemed glued to the ground. "Le-Le-Let me go." She tried to growl, her voice hard and husky.
