Blackfeather Woods revival

Relmyna felt like a culmination of all that he had done wrong in the world. All the beast had done wrong. Or perhaps rather, all that he had let the beast do wrong. He should have so many things, but Cicero had never been one for regrets. Things went as they went and there was no use dwindling on what had been. He wanted to say sorry, but felt there was no use in it. Did she even remember what had happened? He did not, but he could see from the way she had followed him and cared for him that this was somehow his doing; Sheogorath's doing. To see all of the pain and suffering he had created was nearly depressing — a feeling he thought he could never have — and he stared at her with a degree of sorrow in his eyes.

"Cicero does not need caring," he dismissed lightly. "The beast... Is gone, for now." He tilted a ragged ear towards her, wondering if she would understand. Had Sheogorath treated her well or had he done more wrongs in his absence?