#(rhythorn; threads)

[nightsongs]

@beautiful-mischief (malus)

He hadn't meant to be away for so long.

Days turned into weeks. After he'd gotten severe injuries in a fight with some bandits - one of which was a nasty burn that covered his left eye, rendering it completely blind - he had been in no condition to travel. Healing had taken longer than he would have liked.

But, eventually, he had managed to make his way back to Mal's town. He hoped that Mal wouldn't be too angry at him, for staying away longer than he had promised. He hadn't thought to send a letter. Being injured had left his brain foggy for a while and it just didn't cross his mind.

Now he was at Mal's door and was hesitating to knock. He had an eye patch over his eye, to try to hide the worst of the scar. He was already scary enough. Finally, he grumbled at himself, and knocked on the door.

[nightsongs]

@eritvita

Dragonborn.

The word kept rattling around in his head. Part of him wasn't sure he believed that he was Dragonborn. That he was some sort of chosen one. Life didn't work that way for people like him.

Despite that, he had gone to the Greybeards. He had shown the ability to use the Thu'um. According to them, he was Dragonborn.

What in the hells was he supposed to do with that information?

Fight dragons? End a civil war? What was expected of him? Why was the weight of Skyrim suddenly resting on his shoulders, when days before, he was going to be executed like a common criminal? Why was he supposed to fight to protect a world that would snuff him out simply for being an orc?

It was all very frustrating to mull over.

He had returned to Whiterun to stock up on supplies. People still seemed a bit uneasy around him, because of his stature and height, but at least they were willing to do business with him. He supposed the fact that he'd slayed a dragon endeared him to them a tiny bit.

When exiting one of the shops, he bumped into someone. They were on his blind side, but thankfully, as soon as he knocked into them, instinct had him reach out to grab their shoulder and steady them.

"Apologies." His voice was a deep, raspy rumble. "You all right?"