Finding the Wounded Sylvanis - Brought to you in part by: The Foxy Lady, and The Roze in the Nightside of Eden.

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    The Khajiit, and the Nord woman walked along in silence, while she had no words to share with Rhasha'Dar, her own thoughts left her enthralled. It was true, she felt a deep, searing amount of regret for throttling Roze, as well as yelling at Sagax, and not to mention her melodramatic display of emotions for defending the vampire woman, Anika. Despite how hard she tried to rationalize her actions, she could think only of how much of a fool she made herself out to be in front of everyone, the Dawnguard, Sagax, and Rhasha'Dar.

    The evening of the 4th of Sun's Height had come and gone while the early hours of the 5th were approaching, and she reckoned it to be a quarter past five, while the skies above remained in a haunting spectacle of crimson, yet the two moons of Masser, and Secunda's dimmed between approaching ominous storm clouds, and from the looks of it, followed by the evident change in the atmosphere; Sevine reckoned that the weather would reach them by this afternoon, or in the evening. Even the air hinted at the change of weather to come, and she imagined she could smell the rain yet to fall. The pain of her scalp had led her to take the liberty of undoing her intricate work of braids she had pinned up the day before, granted, that the woven, crimson strands of hair had loosened during the battle. A cool breeze lifted her tresses back from her face, and she relished in the relief that the wind provided as blood-red locks and curls were loosened under the dim, grey morning light. As they strolled along the streets of Windhelm, going from one throng of wounded bodies to the next, searching for Rhasha's bosmer friend, Sylvanis, Sevine was beginning to wonder if she had perished in the frays of the fighting. Even so, the notion to appeal to her furry friend that that was the case, Sevine kept her mouth shut; one never knew the outcome of the battle, and in all the years that Leif had come looking for her, and she him after the throes of warfare, neither had given up hope on one another. 

    A peculiar thought crossed the threshold of her mind, and she wondered, just where in Oblivion had he run off to with Farid? She hadn't seen him for the better part of the past few hours, a knot in the pit of her stomach began to form as she prayed quietly that he hadn't dug himself a hole into an abyss of trouble. The siege continued on through the hours, she could hear the implosions as the missiles struck their directed targets. There were the wary cries of the wounded, and the wails of the mourning men, and women that had lost their loved ones, some were even children.
    
    Turning her attention to Rhasha, she was on the verge of opening her mouth when she stopped to study him closely. Now that she saw him under the grey of encroaching dawn, Sevine noticed for the first time, how tall he was. He had broad, powerful shoulders, and rather heavy-set, though she assumed it to be due to the amount of fur he carried, and even a factor of his muscles. She took note of his fur, a mix of golden hues as he ambled along beside her, and as she peered closer at him, she noted that his nose, throat, and torso were a lighter shade, like that of goat's milk mixed with honey. As her concentrated gaze traversed his body, an acustomed sensation took hold of her as she recalled her days spent hunting in the misty woods of Falkreath. She focused then on his head, and realized that she hadn't regarded his hair, or did he refer to it as a mane? Either or, she noted that his hair was a darker shade of brown than that of his coat, and he kept it in plaits, some were of different colors as well. Tiny gold clasps held the plaits in position to prevent them from unravelling, though these were latched onto the different colored strands of his mane, while the other braids held leather strips. Her eyes wandered up to his eyes, or at least, what she could see of them. Rhasha's eyes were the color of golden, with flecks of hazel. Again, her eyes travelled elsewhere, to his ears this time, where she realized he had pierced ears with gold hoops, and his ears were rounded, instead of pointed like that of a housecat. Slowing her walk, Sevine peered at his back side, where she caught a better look at his tail. It was as thick as her arm, if not a smidge thicker. Here, there were stripes, the same color as his mane, and as her eyes roamed across his body, she saw a series of scars across his torso as she leapt back to his side, keeping an even, steady pace with him.
    
"Rhasha, can you tell me something? Why are there different colored strands of hair in your mane?" She asked.



Upon leaving the battered pair that was Rozalia and Sagax, Rhasha found himself dwelling in a comfortable silence with Sevine as they walked. Well - at the very least, the pair were silent themselves. But one would have to be deaf to block out the sounds of the wartorn city around them - screams and groans of the wounded and scared still punctuated the freezing air, each cry for aid made all the more ominous as debris still hit the city and it's walls.

The Kamal may have left for now, but they were not done with the place.

A cold hand gripped Rhasha'Dar's heart, a chill not even his Goddess nor Sevine's company could chase away. He felt a deep fear; a foul taste that had not filled his mouth since the attack by the Werewolf... watching it tear chunks of flesh from his kin, rending fur and skin and ripping his own body apart as if it were naught but parchment beneath it's wicked claws. And he was back there, except there was no way out. They could not survive another attack by the Kamal. The very city he was made so unwelcome in would become his death bed, surely?

The sound of Sevine's footsteps beside him seemingly brought him back to his senses. What would she say, if she knew what he was thinking? What would she then think of him?
Already, Rhasha could feel her eyes on him; he did not look, but he could feel her gaze. It did not feel unfriendly, but it was a curious sensation all the same. Perhaps Sevine had not seen many Khajiit? No... she'd mentioned she'd met plenty, she'd just never touched their fur before. So what had encaptured her gaze so?

Rhasha finally met her gaze as she made her query; and what a gaze it was. Khajiit did not have eyes like the humans, and therein lay a mysterious beauty. Once again, he was reminded of the Nord's Goddess Kyne;  that deep pine green had the breath of the trees within them, and the heart of a forest. It matched Sevine well - it matched her wild anger and her motherly love, all the more accentuated by her vivid red hair flowing loosely behind her.

Upon realising he'd just been staring at her for a few breaths rather than answering her question, Rhasha cleared his throat, bloodrushing to his cheeks in slight embarassment. Thank the Gods she wouldn't notice.

"Ah, they belong to my family. Some time ago, my older sister was forced to flee Elsweyr; before she left, the eight of us parted with portions of our manes; each different coloured strand belongs to a member of my family." He finally answered, a nostalgic smile growing upon his face. "My parents and youngest sister remain at home in Riverhold. Our oldest brother aids in the war against the South; my sister is... Somewhere in Skyrim. And my younger twin siblings remain with our caravan - I thank the Gods they were smart enough to leave before the Kamal arrived." His smile gave way to something more sombre as he looked to the skies. "Perhaps if myself and the denizens of this city had paid more heed to the Moons, the death toll would be far less."



    She listened respectfully as he explained the construction of his mane, and to her surprise, she learned that the different colors came from his family. Her heart sank, not out of sorrow for him, but the realization that he possessed something dear from his family; part of her mind wondered why she had always forsaken her family during times of war, and battle. During the civil war, Sevine had written little to her family. She had hardly any time to write to them, as she was constantly busy with patrols, gathering much needed sleep, sharing her sorrows with Leif over bottles of mead, or out hunting for food when supplies ran short. Again, her mind wandered to Liliana, she wondered how her new husband was treating her, and promised herself mentally that she would write a letter to her little sister if they made it out of the city alive. She caught his words at the end, about the ominous moons, and their mysterious colors. 

"Yes... The moons. They were rather odd two night's ago. To think that this is what they foretold, is troublesome indeed." Just as she was about to ask him more on his beliefs of his people with the moons, she spotted a familiar face. There, along a wall with a select group of the wounded, Sevine grasped his forearm, secretly revelling in the fact at how soft his fur was still beneath her hand, and pointed to a Bosmer woman, that looked eerily like Sylvanis. Albeit, she was missing an arm.

"Is that her?!" She exclaimed, rather excited that their searching had paid off, or at least in hopes that it had come to an end, and she wasn't dead after all.


Rhasha had been ready to tell Sevine more about Masser and Secunda, when she paused and grabbed his arm. Human skin was a curious thing to feel, especially for a Khajiit. Sevine's was pale and smooth, and certainly one of the smoothest that Rhasha'Dar had seen in Skyrim - the cold weather was rarely kind to one's skin, but Sevine wore any weathering well enough to hide it.

Rhasha' gaze was torn from Sevine's face as she pointed towards a rather familiar looking Bosmer. His jaw dropped in amazement - to see her sat up, scowling at nothing in particular, and being truly... alive.

"Sylvanis!" He blurted, and she looked at him, surprise widening the Bosmer's own eyes. Rhasha jogged over to her, laughing with simple relief that he had found his friend - he surprised her even more with a hug, all while careful to avoid her stump. That thing must be smarting.

"Alright, you great furball, get off! I've lost an arm, not my head." Sylvanis grumbled as the hug went on far too long for her liking, and Rhasha grinned at her as he relinquished his hold.

"This one apologizes - but there was a great feeling of relief in my heart seeing you alive, my friend." He said, backing off slightly. There, beside Sylvanis, was her warhammer, and her enchanted gauntlets... both of them. "Sylva - how did you get the other glove back?" He asked after a moment. Sylvanis laughed; although some bitterness there, she was obviously still amused.

"The bastard Kamal may have took my arm off, but they weren't taking those babies away from me. Had to pull it out of the sea with my arm still in it - I brought it back with me, but they couldn't reattach it." She sighed, glaring down at her stump which was swaddled in blood-stained bandages.


Sevine smiled to herself at the sight of Rhasha'Dar rejoicing over finding Sylvanis alive, albeit, with one arm less, but she was alive all right. Reaching to touch him on the back, Sevine mumbled into his ear.

"I'll leave you two be. Mara bless you." With that she nodded to Sylvanis, pleased that the Bosmer was still alive, and hadn't ended up dead on account of the Kamal's. She did feel pity as she lost her arm, but a thought flickered into her mind. Wasn't there a Dunmer man with their company, Sodder? No, Sadri. He lost his arm too, though it was missing before the attacks, perhaps he would have a word of advice to help her with the healing process of a missing limb? Either way, Sevine took her leave; turning on the heel of her boot, she headed back into the depths of Windhelm, searching for Leif. The hour was just past six, if she remembered right, she still had no idea where he had gone, and beginning to grow concerned at his unexpected absence. What had Farid, and him gotten themselves into?


"Thank you for your help, Sevine." Rhasha said in an almost tender tone as he gently grasped her arm in gratitude. Waving her off as she left, he perched himself by Sylvanis, the two beginning to talk about the events that had unfolded - with Sylva naturally [s]lying[/s] boasting of her defeating three Kamal, even finishing one off while being armless - and what the plans for the future would be.