It was a chilly day in Riften; perhaps one of the coldest of the season so far. A soft ‘brr’ left the mouth of a new envoy of Mara; the young man tucking the pamphlets under his arm before rubbing his gloved hands together for a brief moment.
As another person drew near, he hurriedly retrieved one of the flyers and held it out, proudly announcing that there is “all the information one could desire about Mara and sermons in Riften!”. They ignored him. They always did.
Several hours into the song and dance, the man finally received somebody who didn’t ignore him - a Khajiit; quite small and lithe compared to others, and alarmingly had little to nothing on her feet or body to protect her from the elements. He offered a smile, and the feline took the paper. She didn’t read it, though.
From Ma’Zarabi’s view, she took the paper out of a distinct, unsettling feeling of guilt at the idea of ignoring the person - the cat had noticed that the man had been stood there most of the day, and so decided that perhaps taking it would at least mean she wasn’t as bad as others. It must be the hunger; normally, she wouldn’t care in the slightest.
Still, she made herself comfortable nearby, and stared at the paper, pretending to read. Her stomach practically roared, drawing the attention of the young envoy as he approached to ask about the Khajiit’s well-being in the freezing cold. He couldn’t help but notice that she had begun squinting at the page, as well.
Without thinking, he turned and walked back into the Temple to explain to the priests and priestesses what he saw. Ma’Zarabi was indifferent to his sudden disappearance, of course.
Sniffing and placing the paper into her pack, she put clawed fingers between her chapped lips and whistled an improvised tune. It wasn’t long before her wolf returned; sitting beside his mutual partner and taking the brunt of the cold.
