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[h3] A Calm Before the Storm[/h3]
[i]24th of Sun’s Height[/i][/center]
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	The journey to Dawnstar left Sevine physically and emotionally drained. How she even managed to lift one foot after another confounded her. She remembered little of the events from the journey, save from the blurred image of the ground underfoot. Without her axe, as she lost it in the fight with the Kamal ranger, her level of vulnerability skyrocketed. As she trudged on, she heard only snippets of Keegan’s anger towards Daelin. While her body screamed for her to stop, to seek rest, but a voice in the back of her mind kept her going. [i]’For Do’Karth. Make it back to see him. If I can but see his face again, everything will be fine.’[/i] That train of thought is what made her ignore the fire in her ribs.

Needless to say, when the newly contracted guards of Dawnstar appeared from the bushes, Sevine had little energy to speak. She welcomed the water, it cooled her hot tongue. With their aid, they escorted them to Fort Fellhammer where they spent the night uncomfortably sleeping on an empty ore vein. With supplies modestly replenished, the group set out the next morning. Along the path to Dawnstar, one member of the Braves tried to strike up a conversation with her, the nature of which only further soured her attitude. So when he questioned the reason to keep fighting she snapped, perhaps a bit harsh than what was appropriate.

“Why? You want to know why?” She began, her voice low and hoarse, “We keep fighting so that we can protect our land. This is our country. And when your country is under attack, you do not tuck your tail between your legs and make off like a beaten whelp. You stand your ground, and you bare your fangs. There is no glory in war.” She said through gritted teeth, her thoughts flickered to Jorwen. Bile rose in her throat, forcing her to stop in her tracks. How could she have let him be apprehended by the Kamals? Guilt ravished her while a fire burned in her eyes as hot tears threatened to spill, yet she forced herself to speak over the lump in her throat, “There is no glory in war, but there is honor and pride. And those come from protecting the weak and innocent, the infirm, the elderly, the women and children. That is [i][b]why[/b][/i] I keep fighting. I fight because there are others that cannot. I fight because I have someone I love, and because of that, I must survive. That is why I keep going. That is the point of it all.”  

	By that late afternoon, the remaining survivors trudged into Dawnstar. For the most part, Sevine was relieved to see that Asper and her chitlin shield hadn’t gone missing. She checked him over, and found him to be in good health. She stayed with him for a few hours, his presence providing a comfort she hadn’t felt since the night Do’Karth and her had chosen to share the same bed. The warmth radiating from his massive body soothed her somewhat, though it did nothing to obliterate the pain inside. Her wrist and ankle had swelled, while the surrounding edges of the bite marks were white and spongy, hinting at an infection. The money she received as payment wasn’t as much she had expected, but at least she had something. With the warm air of summer now present, Sevine opted out of renting a room at the inn. She pitched a tent outside, and set off to buy a health potion. Instead of stocking up like she normally would have, she purchased the cheapest potion available.

	For the remainder of the evening Sevine settled into her tent as her eyes lingered on the bay, watching for any sign of the [i]Kyne’s[/i] return. What had become of Do’Karth? Had he survived the voyage? Did they encounter any dangers as their group had? Was he hurt? Was he dead? Her mind became her own private torture cell, the worrying thoughts over his well-being placed her in a state of unfeeling blankness, a shell of a person. She passed the evening alone, refusing to join in with the others. More importantly, she worried over Jorwen. How would they break the news to Halla, or worse, to Solveig? The mixture of emotions roiling through her allowed her no peace, she had lost her appetite days ago. When night had fallen and thousands of twinkling stars emerged, her eyes grew heavy from gazing up at the twin moons, Masser and Secunda, there she settled onto her bedroll and knew no more.

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[h3] The Storm Breaks[/h3]
[i]25th of Sun’s Height[/i][/center]
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	Leif kept to himself on the voyage home to Dawnstar, though he did check on Elmera when he saw her, and shared a peculiar conversation with Roze. The poor dunmer could barely stand from the wound in her thigh, when he had the energy he offered his healing spells to help with the pain and to speed the recovery. He watched Do’Karth from a distance, weary of his interactions between Niernen. Even he could see how she reacted around him, like a smitten maid fallen head-over-heels for a soldier. Though he kept his opinions to himself, a small part of him, though he refused to acknowledge it openly, was relieved to know that Do’Karth survived the escape from the frigate unharmed. Sevine would be happy. 

	From him, there were no songs to be sung on this return voyage. He gave a helping hand where he could, cooking, swabbing the deck, hoisting the sails, tending to the rescued prisoners wounds, and keeping an eye out for any sign of frigates seeking to destroy them. Thankfully, on his end, the journey to Dawnstar remained uneventful. It wasn’t until early midday when the [i]Kyne’s Tear[/i] docked in the harbor. He noticed that the [i]Courtesan[/i] had returned. He made a mental note to speak with Atgeir later in the day, for now, he set off into town. 

	Listening to the people of Dawnstar revealed that the group sent to investigate the mysterious fires had returned, though in poor shape. To his dismay, he learned that the Red-Bear was not amongst them. Some Braves whispered of his fate, possibly killed by the Kamals, though none could verify his death. He headed straight for Windpeak Inn, hoping to find Sevine there before Do’Karth did. He spotted the Khajiit and quickened his pace. Flinging the wooden door open to the inn he let his eyes adjust as the sunlight filtered into the dimly lit tavern. There were some members of the group from the fire mission inside, though he could not see her familiar coppery hair amongst them. His heartbeat quickened out of fear, had she succumbed? If she had… only he was to blame. He left abruptly and scoured the rest of the town.

	Leif found her. Sitting outside of her tent with her head in her hands, he could tell something was wrong. He burst into a run, she was alive. That was all that mattered now. “Sevine!” He shouted, he would no longer fight the joy pulsing through him. He watched as she lifted her head from her hands, weary green eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him. Then, her brows furrowed as out of concern. When he reached her, he knelt beside her, his chest heaving from the physical exertion as well as from excitement. 

“Leif…” She began, he could hear the tiredness in her voice, but he cut her off.

“Are you well?” He asked, his eyes roaming over her. It did not take him long to discover the bandages around her wrist and ankle, as she had cast off her bracers and boots. “What happened?” He demanded, taking her hand in his, while the other unraveled the linen. 

“I… stop. Leave me alone.” She snapped, and yanked her arm away from him. 

“You’re hurt. Let me help you.” He said in a pleading voice, reaching for her arm again.

“I said stop!” She thundered, her eyes darkened in annoyance. “I am fine… where is Do’Karth? Is he alive? Is he hurt?” Sevine winced from the sharp pain in her side, and placed a hand over her ribs. Earlier that morning, she had lifted her tunic and discovered a motley of dark bruises along with a degree of mild inflammation. Now, she was in no mood to be trifled with.

	Leif merely gazed back at her, stung by her harsh tone. The dagger in his heart twisted, he regretted coming to see her now. “Your [i]lover[/i],” he spat with anger, “lives.” He rose to his feet, eyes narrowed into slits as he glared down at her. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Sevine. You do not deserve to be called the Huntress when you openly fornicate with a [i]cat[/i].” Her rejection a second time around wounded him deeper, he had always taken care of her injuries. His hands curled into fists, he wanted to strike someone, to take his anger out on anything would alleviate the distress suffocating him. He couldn’t bring himself to argue with her anymore, so he turned away from her, yet, lo and behold, when he turned about he came face-to-face with Do’Karth. 

“You.” He took a menacing step towards Do’Karth and jabbed a finger into the breast of his budi. “How dare [i]you[/i].”