@nordblade
He sat hunched across the fire from her, nursing his exhaustion, and watched her like a wary animal. Her understood her about as well as a wild animal understood anything; even when rescued, they do not comprehend that a strange hand can bring kindness. They are wise, in that regard. What was he doing, then, with her? He did not - could not - trust her, and yet she had already done things for him he still could not quite believe. He struggled to understand what would inspire a woman to take the vitriol of a village whose hopes, it seemed, had been pinned upon her, and choose instead to save- well, him. A dragon that had not for a moment tried to hide who he was or hold back those bestial parts of him.
And what he did not understand unnerved him.
His hands toyed restlessly with the hem of his overcoat, his gaze not shy of boring into her, as if he might suddenly find some secret that would unlock her just by staring. He would have been content to simply stare all night - he had always appreciated quiet - but she was putting him so on edge that he could not let the silence stretch on any longer.
“Will you leave Solstheim now?”
