Twine - Nature

It seems we find ourselves sharing a cell block again, fellow prisoner. Of course, I remember you. As you can imagine, I had another accident earlier. I had just left a general store with a little more jingle in my step if you know what I mean. I tied the pilfered purse beneath my quiver, just out of view but easily accessed if I were to get caught and need to move it. But I needed to get out of there before the shopkeep grew suspicious. The coinpurse jingled mightily with each cough, making me sound like a sickly jester springing toe to toe, hacking out bits of his lung with every hop. I hadn't considered just how much was in that purse, perhaps it would be enough to just head home. Time would tell. I circled the street a few times, just to be certain that I was not being followed then took the high road. From a vantage point above the shop, I sifted through my haul and kept steady eye on the door. Six hundred Septims, a fine catch if I may say so. I gave it another twenty minutes then went about my way.

I am not usually one to second guess myself, but it just felt like one of those days. I kept looking over my shoulder, jumping at the sound of footsteps gaining on my heel only to have a stranger pass harmlessly by. No guards, quiet streets. Not a sound but that of my incessant scratching and croak. As His blessed, I am the center of attention. Usually, that is a good thing. But this was not the time for that. It was the time of the fox running from the hound, the boar from the archer, the killer from the scene of the crime, and I am the killer, the fox, the boar. I scurried and jumped at shadows with a potential pursuer around every corner. My eyes searched high and wide for trinkets or food to pilfer, anything to pry my mind from it's path.

An apothecary sign creaked overhead as the day drifted away. I mistook it for a sharply opening door and jumped. Relieved, I sighed and smiled far too early. From behind came a voice most dreaded. "Sickly girl. Were ye over at the general store earlier?" I froze, collected myself as best I could, then lifted a proper hand to speak. "I have been all about town today, sir so I cannot be certain. It is my shopping day, as you can see." I gave my satchel a tug so that he could see the weighty sway, full to the brim with legally acquired goods as far as he knows. "Is there a problem?" He closed the gap and placed a hand on my shoulder before pulling it away and wiping the grime onto his tunic. "I have ye under suspicion of theft, girl. Ye can deny it if ye want, but ye'll be coming with me either way." He glared at me through the eyeholes of his helmet, looking me head to toe. "But I can't hardly process ye with ye looking like that. I'm taking ye to the healer, whether I have to cuff and drag ye or not. Now be a good girl and follow me, no trouble needed. We'll have a long talk as ye get tended to and get to the bottom of this. How does that sound?" To be myself or to follow my orders, an eternal rope drawn from two directions. A victory for Loril, if but briefly. "I do not know what you mean sir, but I will do as you ask." As I spewed rehearsed lines, I unfastened the coinpurse from it's hiding place and held it at the ready. Should he ask to see my bag, I would lose it and the coinpurse in a passing bush.

His concern seemed authentic enough, though he took a winding path to the healer. Along the way, he would occasionally prod me with questions. Where I had been, why I was in town, and lastly, what was wrong with me. At first, he didn't outright ask. Instead dancing around the question. But after feigning ignorance for some time, he asked it straightly. "What is wrong with ye?" A frown chiseled it's way across my face and I did as I am known to do. "No, sir. There is nothing wrong with me. In fact, I am blessed." I leapt onto his back, clawing at his helmet and fighting to keep his arms down with all of the strength of my tiny Bosmeri frame. The blessing of my Lord welled up in me, his vile and holy cloud, a viridian mist rushing from my gaped maw. It clung to his helmet and sought out the eyeholes like smoke through rafters. It dug into his lungs and squeezed his heart. In moments he plummeted to the ground, his groans drowned out by the pitter-patter of my long bounding steps as he choked and wheezed just as much as I.

Rounding a corner, I slammed into a tall stranger. Flattening myself against his cuirass, he did not budge. "What's the hurry?", he peered over my head, taking notice of a growing and gasping crowd some yards away. "I think a guard is sick", I stuttered, backing away while he was distracted. "You don't look too well yourself lass", he turned to have another look at me but I was long gone. If I had stayed a moment longer, I would have no doubt attacked him as well. Loril would already be very upset with me but it is my nature.

"HALT"
A voice boomed past the next corner, muffled by a helmet but still thundering and terrifying. A shuffling sound and clang of metal followed the voice. Before me stood a lone guard, shield and sword held high. "I say, HALT" he began again. I spun around to find three more guards at my back, including the one I thought I had killed. His breath came fast and labored, yet he somehow still stood. Part of me wished him dead, while another was glad that I would perhaps be spared Loril's wrath. I surrendered, and was lead to the very depths of the dungeons for a harsh interrogation. I gave them nothing, my silence a far fiercer punishment than anything I might face in the coming days. Once they had finished, they left me in a holding cell without so much as a complimentary meal. And that is when I heard you there in the shadows, scratching and mumbling to yourself. Then I saw those glowing red eyes in the corner and knew it was you. You should stick around this time, Loril might ask you to join us. You look like you would fit right in. I am curious about your affliction, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. You are a vampire right? I thought so by the glowing eyes and ominous glare. We have but a handful of vampires in our flock, I am sure one more couldn't hurt. A vampire with a history from the look of those scars and arm. Those burns must itch painfully so. Nonetheless, I am sure she would welcome you, if you can follow rules at least as well as I. Which is not very well at all really.