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  1. Widow Maker Dunmer  She hissed with pleasure-pain, growling ferally into his ear. Her thighs locked on his sides, the much smaller girl clinging to him as she bounced herself on his cock, speaking in that native language in a near aggressive tone, no doubt growling some lewd words to him. Hips rolled and she pant and mewled at him, nails digging into his back and raking downwards. She was soaking wet, even the slightest movement eliciting some lewd, wet smack or squelch from her pussy, her walls undulating, clenching, grasping doing everything they could to suck him deeper inside, despite him being as deep in her guts as anyone had ever been. "Zah-e-en," it was an incredibly needy sounding cry before her face buried into his chest, panting as she rode him hard.
  2. Widow Maker Dunmer  With each stroke she gagged a little but it didn't stop her from picking up the pace, thoroughly deep throating him while her throat noisily squelched around his girth and slurping every time she pulled back, those little hands working to pump at his length whenever his cock wasn't fully sheathed in that mouth of hers. She was a messy little thing and skilled but there was a hungering feeling inside her, her little pussy drooling. Pulling off of his cock for one last time, she licked her spit from her lips, wiping her chin as she quickly climbed up him. Immediately she grind her slick folds against his length, trying to guide the tip of cock inside her, it slipped away from the tight entrance twice before she took a firm grip on his base and slamming her hips down, impaling herself on him.
  3. Widow Maker Dunmer  Her eyes rolled back and she wiggled her head just to every last centimeter of his length enveloped in her mouth - and then she swallowed thickly, her throat seizing up and gripping at his cock before relaxing, doing it three more times before he finally released her. Aiyana pulled completely off his length, gasping and panting, mawl wet with her drool and face flushed, barely catching her breath before she leaned back in to lavish every vein with her tongue, the wet smack of her lips and the lewd slurping peppered with an occasional whiny mewl. "Zah-e-en," she whined voice laced with a slight needy huskiness but was suddenly cut off as she wrapped her lips around his tip and quickly sank them down along his shaft until they met his base again. Instead of lingering there this time, she pulled back upwards, lips pillowing around his cock head and then right back down.
  4. Widow Maker Dunmer  The almost animalistic growls he made pleased her, the grunts and shallows huffs encouraging her further. The force of his hand at the back of her head was a pleasant one that kept her from growing too comfortable, knowing that at any moment he could tug her suddenly onto him. Though she was good she wasn't beyond gagging. The dark elf had a kind of girth that stuffed her tight throat, causing a visible bulge. The gagging only made her throat tighten and twitch momentarily around his length, Aiyana both too stubborn and too locked in place to pull away. The sound of his cock stuffing and plunging into her throat was a mix of wet squelching, guttural gagging and slurping sounds. She returned his praise with a strange but intense vibration of a hum as if answering him despite her mouth being full. It was then that he'd tugged her head down, forcing every inch he could down her throat.
  5. Dunmer  Widow Maker "That is.. good. Very good. Ff-.." His eyes threatened to roll all the way back into his skull at this point, drawing out more of his beastial sounds in the process. Of course, he saw fit to bring another hand to the top of her head, gripping on just as the first had. It was a mite awkward at first, but he eventually found the right angle to lean himself at, using his hands to do most of the work that his hips so desperately wanted to do. After spending enough time training her throat to his girth, he would put more force into his hands, pressing her down until he was brushing her nose against the short, soft hairs that adorned his base. Though, after stuffing her throat with his hands guiding her, the Dunmer would eventually decide to remove both of his hands, gripping once more at the edge of her bed with both hands once more. Sometimes it was simply better to watch a craftsmen work their craft, and Saryn was interested in hers.
  6. Dunmer  Widow Maker His self control was something that would not last, as it was taking every fiber of his being not to completely fly off the rails and use her completely. His blood boiled for him to give into this.. but, his curiosity proved much stronger. He wanted to see exactly what this little cave girl was capable of. She received a pleasured growl at the feeling of his heavy sack being fondled, which also caused him to writhe in his seat. This writhing soon turned into a subtle rise in his hips as she began engulfing his tip and pumping him with her adept hand. The Dunmer began to breath in shallow huffs, audible as his mouth hung half-open in a state of slow relief. He was beyond making himself comfortable inside her mouth, using that hand against the back of her head to guide her along with a strict rhythm. Again, Saryn would be surprised by just how skilled the girl was at this, it wasn't often that he met a mate able to so ravenously handle him, and still ask for more.
  7. Widow Maker Dunmer  Removing her hands for a moment to rest on his knees, she pulled back as much as she could with his hand at the back of her head, starting to pick up a rhythm as she eagerly bobbed her head, the wet smacking of her lips the only sound in the room for a few moments before she began to make little slurping noises, gentle at first as she began pushing down deeper. After that slurping grew substantially louder, she finally pushed herself so that the entrance of her throat stretched around that fat cock head of his, the wet pop of her throat clicking off once she'd swallowed him then the immediate deep sounding gulp that came with throat fucking following as she continued pushing those lips further down.
  8. Widow Maker Dunmer  Instead of simply parting her lips, she brushed his thick cock head against her lips, only slightly parting her mouth while pushing down, her pretty lips enveloping his tip before it finally popped fully into her mouth and pushed further down around his shaft. He pushed inside a warm and wet mouth, tongue pushing upwards to massage at the underbelly of his cock. She lift a little more onto her knees, one hand circling her fingers around the base of his dick, pumping up with a little twisting flourish, until her fingers met her lips then sliding back down slowly as her lips trailed after, taking more of his length inside of her mouth until the head of his cock bumped against the entrance of her throat. Her other hand continued to massage and tease his sack. She bobbed her head in slight motions, knocking the tip of his dick against the entrance of her throat while she drooled on his cock, the glossy trail running down his shaft.
  9. Widow Maker Dunmer  Feeling him grow further still in her hands seemed to have a particular hold on her attention, a quiet but audible gasp falling from her lips once he fully hardened for her. She enjoyed how his gaze now clung to her and she was intent to make him groan out, making her sisters grow envious of her. He held a little more self control than others, offering her an exciting change of pace. Lewd as it might be to have that length grinding against her face, Aiyana seemed to revel in it, nuzzling back against him, fingers rewarding his dominant display by tracing upwards until they teased over his balls, before gently palming at them as that thick tip slapped against her plush lips. Her eyes flicked upwards before she gave a devious little smirk at his finely worded command.
  10. Dunmer  Widow Maker Saryn's core ran several times hotter than that of other mortals, something common in all of his kin. Even as she laid tongue to bare flesh, his manhood continued to grow more rigid, and less pliable as it had been when she had fished it from its cloth prison. Almost as soon as he had been exposed, Saryn felt prying eyes upon him, filled with more hunger than he thought only one person capable of. He resolved to give into his temptations in that moment, bringing a hand forward to mingle into her snow white tresses and establish a firm grip upon the back of her head. The hand pressed her inward until he was grinding his length across her face in a dominant display. Finally, he took hold of himself at the base, lightly bapping his tip against her plush lips as if knocking and requesting an entrance. "Show me what this mouth does, then, bad child."
  11. Dunmer  Widow Maker She would find that it would not be hard to keep his attention, especially when she would move to slowly disrobe and present herself in front of him. Though the danger loomed overhead, any semblance of reason had been effectively chipped away as she played to the audience of the starved beast inside of him. The bulge she seeked out so ravenously took no time to develop, leaving a clear shape through the thin fabric of his sailor's breeches. His size was proportionate to his somewhat towering height, though she would find out that he was quite thick for having such a lithe, thief's frame. "I do like mouth.. Very much." He muttered as he peered down, both hands gripping onto the edge of the bed on either side of his legs. The Dunmer lifted his hips accordingly as he felt little fingers digging into the hem of his trousers and yanking down. She'd find she could choose from a number of thick veins running down along the sides of his cock, and the abject warmth was immediate.
  12. Widow Maker Dunmer  "You like mouth?" she asked, little hands reaching to pull his pants down before she'd finally released him, her eyes setting on him like a starved predator, "Big," the word was mewled with appreciation, fingers trailing down along the underbelly of his swollen manhood while she dipped her head down to trace the tip of a warm, velvet tongue up along a big vein.
  13. Widow Maker Dunmer  The garment fell away as she came to stand, revealing the perky breasts beneath, hips wiggling as she worked the skirt down and over her ass, keeping bent at the waist for a moment before reaching behind and spreading herself, presenting her glistening folds, her arousal oozing from the tight entrance that fingers soon spread further so he could see the pinkish purple flesh, the noise of the slight wet stretch almost loud in the otherwise quiet room. Of course above that the little pucker of her ass was on display too. He was allowed to linger on that sight for a good few moments before she turned, eyes fixed on him with hunger, lowering to his crotch where there was a very noticeable bulge. She lowered onto her knees, between his legs, face immediately nuzzled into his crotch before she began sucking at the outline of his cock through the fabric of his pants.
  14. Widow Maker Dunmer  She fidgeted some at the well of information, trying to follow. She did in some areas but in others… She used her imagination as best she could to fill in the gaps. He listened as she spoke to him about her urges to leave the island and experience other things the world had to offer. Once she'd told him they would mate, his gaze openly lingered on her. Unaware of his particular situation, she assumed he'd mate her regardless. Or rather, that she'd get what she wanted one way or another. She listened as he spoke, calmer than others before had spoken to her when faced with a similar request. "Bad child," she smiled at him, "It is how I am called," she informed him before she reached behind her to unfasten the ties that kept the beads draped over her breasts.
  15. Dunmer  Widow Maker She had helped him quench two of his most primal needs, hunger and thirst.. She seemed well and open to quenching a third.. more latent urge that bubbled up far more often since he was in the throes of his lycanthropy. It had only been a few nights since the Blood Moon, but his blood still ran like magma, always. His manhood ended up getting him in all sorts of trouble since he had begun the regiment of dulling the beast through alchemy.. This situation would prove to be no different. It.. couldn't have been helped. The more he thought things over, the more the danger of the situation seemed to melt away. "That's awfully bold of you.. They certainly won't be happy with you for that."
  16. Dunmer  Widow Maker Saryn did a little bit more of flipping through the pages before he closed the book and sat it down beside him, just as he had done with the crude dish. "Not siblings.. but people that were my brothers, nonetheless.. Brothers of circumstance.. and high like trees straight up into the sky, but inside, people lived." He tried his best to deconstruct his speech into something she could stomach and understand well enough, fully ready to clarify anything that might have been vague to her. His ears would twitch and lower as she went on about her predicament, finding a small bit of sympathy creeping up for her. Wanderlust was something he could definitely understand. He could also perfectly understand her very forward request of him, though it may have taken a second or two to sink in. "Mount?" The question echoed out in the room, and Saryn was drawn straight back to observing her womanly figure through the veil of beads.
  17. Widow Maker Dunmer  "Some day I like to go see the places. We not leave home, though," a frown found her lips, her finger circling around the area of Bravil on the map, where he'd last pointed. "It is why we- mean I come to you. It is… Same in home all the time and none has want of anything else except I. Aiyana tell we sibling they mate you but I get talk to you. Aiyana say this thing, but it is not meant now. Zah-e-en will mount I until exhausted of mating Aiyana." Her fingers trailed down along his spine as she said this, eyes flicking up to his. "We think you bad mate when meet but now Aiyana want Zah-e-en life seed inside, okay."
  18. Widow Maker Dunmer  She wiggled her hips a little, settling in when he pulled the book to his lap. Leaning a bit closer to look as he showed her in the book the places he spoke of. "Like high land?" she asked, "You live with sibling?" she asked him, her finger tracing over the imaginary line he'd traced on the page. The looks he'd given her had yet to be noticed, allowing him to further study her. A veil of beads carved of wood and stained with various dyes tied around her neck and draped over her chest, another tie wrapped around her back, the expanse of her stomach exposed as well as her back, a skirt of beads worn around her waist. Though the beads did a good job of concealing those places for the most part, every so often they would shift with her movement to flash the skin beneath. It was obvious that there seemed to be a shortage of typical fabric used to craft clothes. "Many people," she hummed thoughtfully.
  19. Dunmer  Widow Maker He maneuvered it gingerly into his lap where he read over pages and several maps until he was able to turn to a page that held the whole of tamriel for him to reference. "I left from the cold, but it is not my home.." He pointed to a large ornate marking on the map, labeled accordingly with the words 'Dawnstar.' He drug downwards toward the center of the massive continent before he stopped just over another ornate marker, labelled 'Bravil.' He looked up to her. "This is home. Lots of people living ontop of each other.. Like your home, in some ways. But I lived amongst many different peoples. Big houses built out of anything they could find, all branched together like a man-made forest." He lost himself in reminiscing, it almost made him forget about the very real danger he found himself in. Almost.
  20. Dunmer  Widow Maker Though the setting and the utensils he was served with both shared the same macabre dressing, Saryn couldn't resist the other urging call that had been rattling him since he woke. He dug into the meal, graciously, her attempts to quell his fears seemed to not be needed.. or at least that's what he wanted her to believe. His goal was to play along as best he could.. He couldn't exactly tell what the meat was.. but it was devoured nonetheless. Even in his hyper-aware state, the Dunmer didn't so much as flinch as she closed the distance on that bed and began toying in his hair, prompting him to take much more lingering looks over at her, somewhat discreetly making note of her more feminine features covered by a thin coat of layered beads. Her modest question took him by surprise, throwing off any notion of predicting just what she was after with him. He set down the hollowed out skull by his side, neatly, exchanging it quickly for the book which was held out to him.
  21. Widow Maker Dunmer  "These places, you have seen?" she opened the book, pointing to an outdated map of the world, looking up to him with a hopeful expression, her excitement in speaking about the faraway places barely contained. "When you say home like cold and a snow and a ice, we do not know what this mean. It like low land or high land?" because of scope of terrain was severely limited. "You have the loose land too?" she asked him, again referring to the sandy isles.
  22. Widow Maker Dunmer  "Only family," she gestured at the skeletal remains, attempting to ease his obvious concerns, "We have many sibling," she continued, "Mate often." She left out the bit about eating said mates, "Zaw-e-en, tell me of what you see beyond ocean," the way she spoke now was a softer, sweeter tone - because she wanted something. And what she wanted was not to eat him - at least that wasn't her want at the moment, but rather to hear about the world she'd never seen. She was curious and at the moment her desire was innocent enough, tales of lands she longed to someday visit herself. "I like tellings of beyond," she confessed to him, looking up at him with those jewel like eyes. "You see many thing?" she asked before leaving his side to pick up a rather worn book - thoroughly read or at least looked at again and again by the girl.
  23. Widow Maker Dunmer  "Zaw-e-en," she tried it out on her own lips, completely butchering it. If he hadn't noticed already, she had difficulty with a few letters. In her defense, she did try a few more times but ultimately gave up, "It is difficult," she frowned. "We- I am called Aiyana." She'd noticed that he kept up pretty well once he got in a pace, something that impressed her. Aiyana was reconsidering how he'd need be approached, he was alert and proving to her that he was more capable than she'd first assumed. It did take him a moment to answer her and she tilt her head, "You have voice in head?" she asked, "Wanting to know?" She served him his food in the sawed off top of a human skull, gesturing for him to sit on the bed while she found a flask from a previous victim, handing it off to her guest. Sitting beside him, there was little consideration for personal space, toying with his hair.
  24. Dunmer  Widow Maker He seemed to be snapped out of his self-absorbed stupor when she had finally addressed him within her chambers, causing him to suddenly look towards her, and then towards the bit of meat cooking over the enclosed fire. "Yes, that sounds good." He once again played to the perceived grogginess of being sea-swept, allowing the tension in his shoulders to lift for only a moment.
  25. Dunmer  Widow Maker As he was tugged along, Saryn made note of the other denizens, chittering and gawking all with equal measure. It didn't take long for him to figure out there were no men in sight.. At least none standing. He had dealt with his fair share of bones, and these looked nothing like what this tribe could produce if they were simply honoring their dead. Beneath the dull hum of his gut instincts telling him that he had made the wrong choice, the residual energies of the bones that surrounded him instilled him with an all encompassing dread. Though he had pieced together the danger he had found himself in, to fold under that pressure would only place him in dire straits. Playing along was his only chance of catching some time to think.. Think.. Think, damnit!
  26. Dunmer  Widow Maker "My name is Saryn" He spoke as they moved within comfortable earshot, both moving their way up the mountain at her behest. Though he stood 7 ft tall, his frame and balance clearly displayed that he was quick and nimble on his feet. He scaled the steeper bits of the path with ease, slowly working himself into a rhythm that would stick with him for a remainder of the hike. As they passed by the orante carvings into the wall, Saryn's pace slowed some, using the extra time to observe and even feel over the deeply indented pieces of art. When the entrance to the place they called home was found, everything seemed to fall into place. The figures that waited for them near the entrance.. they didn't look as if they were waiting patiently, almost as if they had been followed all the way up from the low lands where he had first made contact. The bones were implied to have been there long before he even laid eyes on them.. and seeing them only made his stomach shoot into his throat.
  27. Widow Maker Dunmer  It like all the other areas of the small expanse of the tunnel system they'd navigated through was also lined with skulls and bones - but it was homier than the halls. A curtain of delicate bones lent some manner of privacy to her den, a bed of some mysterious fabric draped with one of the few animal furs he would likely see on the island. A fire crackled in a little hearth, venting into a manmade duct but the majority of light came from the ceiling, little orbs that gave a soft, warm globe strung up by a fine, silky woven material. There were some books and trinkets scattered about but little in the way of furniture other than the apparent bed. "Eat?" she asked him, even the cooking utensils laid near the fire seemed to be carved of bone but what looked to be slow-roasting didn't appear to be humanoid but it still remained questionable at best.
  28. Widow Maker Dunmer  was closer to where her people dwelled. Finally there was a landing carved out that could be seen from the distance and when they began to draw closer, torches were lit and a few silhouettes could be made out lingering around the entrance. "Home," she chirped, tugging at a sleeve to lead him further in. The entrance was a large arc and inlaid with bones and skulls in an ornate pattern and as she led him in this decor would follow, the walls and ceilings lined with the bones of men. The others around did not quite look like her, all being bigger than her and all with various features, those that looked a little more questionable hung back in the shadows, a few figures skittering even further in that darkness. She obviously was familiar with the others, chittering at them in a seemingly nagging and familial way. What might be a tense couple of minutes for him was carefree to her and that was clear as she proudly showed him her den, "This mine," she told him.
  29. Widow Maker Dunmer  Giving him little time to both digest and consider his options was intentional of course. He was forced to act with little time to consider those actions. And he did as she'd wanted him to and honestly, it was to his benefit. For now, at least. Of course in a day or so she'd expect him to be no more than a pile of bones stripped clean of its meat. She wouldn't hint to that though. Reminding herself not to ascend the mountain as she might normally by crawling up along its side, she instead took the almost overgrown path upwards. The ridges of the mountainscape were followed with Aiyana acting as his guide. "What you called?" she asked him as they climbed. It was a fairly good trek, Aiyana spending most of that time quietly singing or humming in what would obviously be her native language. Soon there would be the clear signs of some form of civilization. There were intricate carvings inlaid in the side of the mountain that grew more elaborate as they carried on, likely because it
  30. Dunmer  Widow Maker The social contact and the fulfillment of one basic need were enough to keep him on his feet, though. However, as quickly as she had closed the gap between them, she had pulled away again, beckoning for him to follow without question. What other choice did he have, really? Trusting the dubious intentions of a tribal girl he had just met seemed to be a stroke of ill judgement, but he wasn't sure that being left alone to fend for himself was too smart of an idea either. Even if he had knowledge of a fresh water source, he clearly knew nothing of the layout or the species that littered this island. The Dunmer grumbled to himself, deciding to move quick to make sure that he always had sight of her from behind. He had regained much of his leg-strength now, allowing him to quickly maneuver around the bushes and up the paths she led him through, ascending slowly up the mountain to places he could only guess at.
  31. Dunmer  Widow Maker He continued to feign the lack of his growing composure for as long as he could, for as dense as this jungle was, all was kept quiet as if by force.. Which only further clued him in to the fact that the girl was not alone. Little inside..? What did that even mean? She was at the ready with a wealth of poorly spoken information, though it was clear enough that he could simply take what she said at face value and nod. Before he could even find the space to think she was upon him, clutching up and inspecting one of his arms and the hand that came with it. Saryn reluctantly obliged her forwardness, opening his hand up fully to palm against hers and put their difference in size in contrast once more. "My land is far away from here.. But it has been an awfully long time since I've been there. I left on the.. Boat from a cold place. Ice and snow." Saryn tried to speak as slowly and as clearly as he could, doing his best to mitigate the shakiness that his fatigue brought with it.
  32. Widow Maker Dunmer  his hand out, head tilting again at the size of it. "What you land like?" she asked him. She was not unfamiliar with the wary type and it alluded that he was more intelligent than she'd previously assumed or perhaps just more instinctual. Maybe she'd end up sinking teeth into him after all. "Come to high land?" she asked him, "It is good to have sleep in high land. Low land bad when night." She didn't explain why it was bad, however. "Come. You slow. Take long time, leave now and might not die." She'd turn again, navigating her way through the lush flora. While the jungle was teeming with life, it was strangely silent and it would likely dawn on Saryn that there wasn't the sound of insects buzzing about or the skittering of small rodents. Not even the chirp of birds. Silence, save for the push and pull of the ocean, the rustling of the leaves up above.
  33. Widow Maker Dunmer  Satisfied when he drank deeply from the plant, she continued watching him, brows lifting a little as he near drowned himself in attempt of quenching his thirst. She laughed and it was a deceptively sweet sound. "Too fast," she told him. He was clearly getting some bearing now, "Not look like elf we knowed," she told him, but she didn't question him much more on it. As his eyes began to dart around them, she leapt from the swinging vine, deftly finding her footing as she sprint a little past him, "You look little inside," she smiled mischievously at her taunt, "We in low land," she answered him. "High land," she pointed towards the mountain, "Home. You outside kind call "lost isle" - many come on uh…" she gestured widening the span of her arms, "big. Big…Boot." Boat was the word she was looking for. "It not lost if found though. No sense," she didn't seem entirely interested in the topic, lifting one of his arms with her fist curling into the fabric of a sleeve, her other hand splaying
  34. Dunmer  Widow Maker The ears spoke something of an elven lineage, but something was.. off about her. It was more of a feeling, like something was being hidden in plain sight. Though, the deeper the Dunmer began to think things over, the more his awareness would come back to him. His senses had been sharpened by lycanthropy to great effect, allowing him to hear and smell more effectively than he ever had without the curse. Right now, those senses clued him into a great disturbance around him.. or more accurately, many great disturbances. The elf somewhat visibly tensed up at what he felt, eyes darting around the edges of the treeline around him for a moment. "Where.. Are we, exactly?" It sounded like a legitimate question, but it was more of a stalling tactic, used so that he could have a small window of time in which to gather himself, perhaps think up a plan of action should things decide to go south.
  35. Dunmer  Widow Maker He wasted absolutely no time, picking the first good-sized pitcher plant that he found and tipping it down towards his mouth and drinking deep, not even minding that half of the cup's contents were splashing down the front of his shirt and further below. Saryn nearly drowned himself in the act of quenching his thirst, and had to take moments to step back and breath accordingly. Bits and pieces of his composure had been coming back to him ever since he had woken up in the boat, and the last of it finally seemed to come back to him as he waterlogged himself with the help of the girl. He brought a hand up to wipe the excess water off of his chin. "I'm a dark elf.." He could only really muster this much, not exactly sure of how wordly his host was, or where he even was in relation to where he left land from. His eyes focused in on her as she rested upon the thick vine, trying to figure out exactly what she was.
  36. Dunmer  Widow Maker Try as he might to have kept up with the girl, he would often finds himself having to cling to aptly sized rocks and the trunks of trees as he tried to stay as keen on her trail as he could. Low suspicions of the local flora was confirmed as she spoke to him in her broken tongue, gesturing toward the plump and plentiful fruit that surrounded him. It was like being in a minefield, as the ravenous stomach of the Dunmer roared in rhythm with his tastebuds screaming out for some sort of moisture. When they had finally made it to the clearing littered with pitcher plants, Saryn stopped and gazed in awe for a moment, barely having time to scrape his jaw off of the floor at the sight of it. Movement was quickly spurred on within him, though, especially when she took the time to show him that this was all safe, fresh water.
  37. Widow Maker Dunmer  After he had been shown that the water was safe to drink, she moved aside. While he was preoccupied she quietly circled around him, taking in his features, the mannerism in which he moved, those incredibly long ears, what he had on him - that she could see anyway. "What you?" she asked him after having finally settled on a thick, low-hanging vine, making it swing a little as she watched him still. "Big eyah-ee," she gave a little tug at her own ear, indicating what she meant. "Big all," she then gestured to him.
  38. Widow Maker Dunmer  Vines twisting in tangles, snaking along the floor and hanging from the thick canopy that blotted out the sun, only golden-green patches speckling the floor. There was an abundance of life enshrouding them, creeper vines with an array of flowers in bright colors, tall ferns and thick brush peppered with strange berries. He might be tempted to try and quench his thirst with the plump fruit, but she would remember this temptation and quickly return back to him, "Bad sick," she warned him, "Insides come outside if eat. No good." Impatiently, she'd push him along, much as she could given their difference in size. "Falling ocean," she told him, leading him to an area where enormous pitcher plants had grown wild, taking over a large area of the forest. The orange and green plants varied in size, some as tall as the Dunmer himself. Dipping her hands inside one of the flower vats, she cupped them before lifting them up to her lips and drinking. "See?"
  39. Widow Maker Dunmer  When he'd stood, she was tempted to take a step back, but she steeled herself to make him believe that she was not threatened by his size, as if she were naive or unfamiliar with violence. She'd notice the strange hue of his eyes, looking up and meeting his desperately searching gaze as his hands pressed to her shoulders, her small frame shaken slightly in his grasp. "Then come," emphasis on the last word to enforce that if he'd obeyed her earlier they would have already been on their way. Whether he listened or not, she turned and sprint back towards the treeline, disregarding if he was able to keep up at first but she did pause just behind where the trees had begun to crop up, looking back at him and beckoning him to follow. It was not likely he would be able to speak much given he'd apparently been lost at sea for some time and that would do her no good, would it? She wanted his words after all. The deeper she led him, the more dense the jungle became.
  40. Dunmer  Widow Maker The wild look in his eyes and his disheveled appearance only further added to his alibi as a castaway.. and in his position he had no choice but to trust her, and give no mind to any sort of danger to his person in the process.
  41. Dunmer  Widow Maker He turned his head to the side, peering down the shoreline to spot as few more wreckages washed up along the beach, each long abandoned and falling apart compared to his vessel, but many held supplies that would have been useful to him should he have chosen to rebuild his vessel and set off again - but to where? He hadn't the slightest idea where he was in the first place, which brought it all back to where he was now, with the strange-speaking purple girl dressed in little more than a ceremonial garb. He quickly rose to his feet, making the height difference between them even more noticeable. He leaned down some, using both of his hands to grip against her shoulders and brace her for a moment. "W-water. I need to drink. I've been on that boat for days." He might have shaken her a bit as he said this.
  42. Dunmer  Widow Maker The Dunmer's celebration was cut short by a stranger's presence, too obsessed with worshipping the very ground he rested upon to keep what little of his wits he had left about him. Long ears twitched at the sound of an incredibly foreign tongue, even to someone that was as traveled as he was. A quick look at her attire was enough to settle in his mind who this may have been. Her attire struck him as similar to the tribal people of his homeland, though far less sturdy due to the fact that it didn't look like the girl had any lava plumes to navigate around. Saryn didn't answer his new acquaintance immediately, perhaps leading her to believe that he really was lost in the head.. but in reality, he was simply getting his bearings back in waves after being deprived of his autonomy in that boat.
  43. Widow Maker Dunmer  He'd make one of her sisters very happy. She picked her way down from the lush jungle, quiet in her approach but no longer trying to conceal her presence. "It is the loose land, it is call a "sand" the ocean people tell we," she explained matter of factly, accent painting every word, speaking in a slightly broken common tongue, "Maybe it is the head is baked by the big light. Will you have a death?" she asked, tone rather light while casually asking if he might die. "Death is no good, we have a lot of asks still. Come, shade," she instructed him.
  44. Widow Maker Dunmer  A series of chitters echoed in the treeline, Aiyana at last hissing at those who lingered. Numbers scared outsiders and some of her siblings weren't nearly as approachable as she was. The others begrudgingly skittered back into the depths of the jungle, retreating back towards the mountains, the distant sound of foliage rustling beneath their feet the only remnant of their presence, the sound fading until the crash of waves drowned out the noise. The small vessel drift closer, lured in by the sea's pull. Crouching lower, she observed for a moment as a being sat up rather suddenly, looking about the island. When he hopped out and immediately collapsed to his knees, hands scooping deep into the sand and laughter falling from his lips her brows furrowed. Obviously this one had no sense, the sun must have dried up whatever was left in that thick skull of his. But… he was a rather solid looking being, much taller than herself and taller than many of her siblings too. A desirable quality.
  45. Widow Maker Dunmer  Violet eyes scanned the horizon, the tumble of ocean waves stretching out farther than she was capable of seeing. She'd heard whisper of a sighting in the distance of the vast blue ocean - something was approaching the shoreline of the island. There were others that had anticipated the lone vessel's arrival, but she'd managed to barter the others into conceding that first contact would be her right. It was mostly to their benefit anyway, she'd grown bored and when she was bored she had a tendency of acting out and causing havoc within her village. A day or two with the foreigner to amuse her would help ease that wild nature, just enough to hear the tales of faraway lands. Then her siblings could contest with each other over who'd be devouring him. Aiyana had neither the intention of keeping nor breaking her promise. If she felt like devouring the visitor she would, if not then she'd likely lead the poor creature to one of her kin.
  46. Dunmer  Widow Maker As much of a blessing as this might have seemed to him for now, he still wasn't out of the woods yet.
  47. Dunmer  Widow Maker Though, drying out in a wood shell with no land in sight wasn't too good of a deal, either. The gentle sounds of the water crashing up against the boat was his only entertainment as he looked up into a sky lightly speckled with clouds, still orange from the hour of the day. Somehow, his hands found the strength to brace against each side of the boat, letting him lift himself up into a seated position. The view from his seat showed him that what he was listening to wasn't just the sounds of the water beating against the vessel, but along the shore of a picture-esque beach, which stretched down further than his eyes could see. The elf which had once been drained and peckish within the boat quickly found a boost of youthful energy as he all but hopped straight out of the boat and onto land. He stomped around for a few good seconds before dropping to his knees and scooping two giant handfuls of sand up, all while laughing. Perhaps the sea had drove him absolutely mad.
  48. Dunmer  Widow Maker Red eyes slowly creaked open as a new morning's light finally broke the edge of the boat and beamed against his face. He swallowed hard, the inner lining of his throat threatening to stick against itself from the lack of moisture. It was only supposed to be a few days spent out at sea, but a freak storm ensured that he wound up lost very soon. It was a miracle that his tiny, one-man vessel didn't get torn to shreds by the turbulent waves. It was worse for wear, though the hull was intact, the mast of the vessel had met its end very early in the storm, cursing the Dunmer to drift or paddle himself ragged trying to fight the current. The Blood Moon had passed in the time he had been on that boat. Though it had not brought the beast out of him on the open sea, he felt it trying to claw its way out from within. It was certainly a risky gamble, what would he have done if he transformed on this tiny boat and was left to navigate on his own?
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