Blackfeather Woods You don't belong.

Still fuming, and wondering if she could get away with some kind of hex, Potema gathered herself and began to walk off towards the Mire, only to be stopped by a familiar voice. As her head turned to greet the woman, the smell that she had detected all around the forest hit her nose in a gust of wind. Her eye widened and she nearly dropped the bone, dipping her head down to let it fall safely. She took a double take over the woman's engorged frame and felt her mood shift from shock to anger.

You. She snarled, her head low over the pelvis. The Daedra damn Burke, it was you. Her fangs were bared despite the woman's pleasant greeting. She didn't really care anymore. Fuck! She cursed, lurching her head away. You just couldn't resist him, couldn't you? Her voice took on a mocking hiss as she looked Malice over again. A voice reminded her that she was a priestess of Mephala, the Daedric Goddess who ruled over the Realm of Sex. But this was different. There was no goal in mind, no plan behind the seduction. It was mindless lust, with no thought of the future, or what others would think. It was so selfish. So wrong.