Blackfeather Woods i am—yet what I am none cares or knows;

YAY <3

the stone swirled again — she felt herself falling. a forked tongue licked around the seashell curves of her awareness, and relmyna flinched against the snow. but as soon as it had come, the awareness faded, as did the burning presence, and soon the dream died altogether and she found herself blinking against the snow with the scent of sheogorath in her nostrils.
no — not he, relmyna noted, staring blearily up at cicero before gathering herself to a sitting position. her mouth was dry; she dipped her lips toward the snow and then returned her attention to him with a small smile that soon faded, for fear he would think badly of her scarring.