Blackfeather Woods I send a pestilence, a plague

As he was looking for his dear sister that day, Sheogorath happened upon his nephew instead. Ragged ears perked forward to catch the nephew sifting around the herb storages. He wondered at first if he was taking anything but upon closer inspection he instead seemed to be merely organising the different herbs.

Sheogorath wondered if these were only healing herbs or if she kept them mixed with poisonous one — though a thing he wouldn't recommend — as he approached. "Good day," he greeted upon approach. "Are you helping your mother today?" Sheogorath wondered where she was, that sister of his, but he didn't ask, focussing on his nephew for the moment. They spent too little time together, he realised, though he cared little for the child; not like Cicero would have, anyway.

this looked lonely <3