Blackfeather Woods the brewing storm

She had come to accept Kove slipping soundlessly out of the woods beside her, merely flinching almost infinitesimally as his white form appeared and drew close. His words slipped through her ears, a soothing touch to the anxious feelings inside. She, too, kept her eyes ahead as she spoke.

"I spoke with my mother," Maegi replied, her voice cold. "She said she hates me, that Meldresi would have hated me. No mother wants me. . .but maybe a father will." She thought of Miraak, of Kove, of Vaati, of Cicero. . .that despite her flaws, had stuck around, taught her, guided her, loved her. No woman had shown her the same level of kindness.

"Nukadlik?" she echoed, glancing at Kove. "That's not Daedric, is it?" It didn't sound like it, at least; the inflection was different. She knew Kove wasn't a Melonii, but she never had wondered until this moment where he really came from. Was he already here, when Meldresi settled the Woods? Or had he, too, come from someplace different?