Blackfeather Woods Have you ever tried to get to your feet with a sprained dignity?
gubraithian fire
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#1
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There was a chill in the air this morning. Wildfire shivered, not just because she was cold—there was nearly no fat left on her body to insulate her—but because so much time had passed. She had left Drageda during the dog days of summer and this dip in temperature heralded the arrival of autumn. She had been gone for a month, possibly even two.

She had been eating a little, despite herself, and had the strength to hobble toward the cave's anterior. There was nobody here, yet Wildfire made no attempt to escape. She folded her slim haunches and sat with a quiet, resigned grunt.

Wildfire thought of her mate and her children, picturing them on a distant beach. Had they tried to find her? Although she didn't want any of them anywhere near these dangerous wolves, her heart squeezed a little as she thought of them, wondering if they had already given up on her and moved on with their lives.
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#2
He had retreated into some kind of silent contemplation. It was another winter for him, another mark of his long life. He wondered how much longer his thread was — but Mephala would never answer him, unless death was right in front of him. He savored that answer, accepted it, then threw himself back into normal life.

He did not know what to think of Potema's pregnancy. He did not ask who was the father, but the hurt in her eyes told him it was someone close, too close. All he could do was hunt for them, and continue to guard their borders as winter came.

As for the prisoner...he had no opinion of her. He knew that she was to be kept alive for some reason, but he had yet to question his superiors. He caught a rabbit, ate it, then took the rest to her, striding past the sharp rocks that made the Wolfskull's fangs and depositing it before her. He observed her body for the first time, noting how small she looked. Smaller than a woman of her age should be. He didn't condone torture, no, just mindless torture. They had gotten nothing from her — she was not a target or an intruder. It would only bring them to ruin if she was a part of a pack, and someone had cared enough for her to track her down.
 
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Someone approached and, strangely, Wildfire welcomed the distraction. She stiffened, chestnut eyes boring into the wolf as he came closer. She had seem him pass by before, yet they hadn't been introduced. These wolves weren't very well-mannered, after all. She swallowed when she realized he reminded her of someone, then recognized in the next breath that he resembled her dead father.

He dropped a partially eaten rabbit between them. Wildfire glanced down at it, then upward again. He was scrutinizing her but she was used to it by now. "Who are you?" she questioned softly but boldly. "What do you want?" Because they always demanded something from her when they came.
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#4
He sat back on his haunches, then eventually relaxed onto his stomach as time went on. It was a familiar stance for him, and it was growing more and more common for him to slip into it as he aged. He stretched, twisting his neck to loosen it. Miraak, He responded. He wasn't sure how they had treated her; what they did to twist and wound her brain and body. So he didn't know what tone to take as he spoke to her. To make sure you don't die, In any other sense it would be a selfless thing for him to say that, but here? Here it was just prolonging her agony. This was not sanctioned, He adds after a brief moment of silence. It was his way of apologizing for her pain, though there was nothing he could do to make up for it.
 
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Why did she ever bother asking questions? The answers rarely made sense and never satisfied her. She arched a brow at the wolf whose face hurt to look at (so she didn't), her chestnut gaze trailing skeptically over the dead rabbit. She felt saliva pooling in her mouth, yet she stayed still as a stone.

Apparently Wildfire couldn't help herself. "Why?" she wanted to know.
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#6
He expects her to tear into the rabbit without a second thought, but then he realizes: poison. She expects the rabbit to be poisoned. He sighs, knowing that it would be hard to convince her with words.

She asks him simply: 'Why?', and he responds to what he thinks she is asking. You are not our enemy, She says it firmly, making sure that she understood the sincerity in his words. You did not trespass, nor did you attack one of us. One of us took you because they could, He knows it's Cicero, Sheogorath — whatever. But Miraak had done nothing to stop the torture, even if he knew it. He thought, at first, that she would be used for training, perhaps for poisons and torture methods. But there was no evidenece of such. And she had been here for so long now...
 
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His words took her by surprise, a little. Still Wildfire kept her expression under control. She wouldn't let herself fall prey to these wolves any more than she had already. He was quite possibly toying with her, or attempting some variation of good cop/bad cop. She didn't trust him at all.

"You're right, I did nothing to deserve any of this," she replied woodenly.
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#8
He had learned how to torture, to coerce words out of a prisoner. He had hurt people, both psychologically and physically, but now he was in a paradoxical position. Now he was trying to convince someone that he was not here to hurt them, that they were falsely imprisoned, with true sincerity. It felt strange to him. He did not blame her for being skeptical. But he had no reason to hurt her, no motive, no information to be squeezed out. Her wooden response did not make him feel any better about the situation. He merely watched her for a moment, wondering if she ever would take a bite, before rising and turning away from her, leaving the cave.
 
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There wasn't much left to say beyond that. He looked at her with an inscrutable expression on his face, then took his leave without another word. Wildfire tracked his every movement until he was gone, then squinted down at the rabbit. She fought herself for a minute before giving in to her hunger. She made quick work of the meat, then withdrew to a shadowy corner of the cave, sullenly pondering Miraak's words and actions.