Cricket Creek Bog I condemn you to living death. To eternal hunger for living blood.
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Ooc — Alisha
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The end of summer loomed over them all, urging the denizens of Namira — the insects, the amphibians, the creepy-crawlies that slithered the muck that he walked over — to whip themselves in a fury. The frost would kill them off, putting them in stasis until spring thawed them out. They finished whatever business they had left on this Earth before the cold swept them away. A relief for him, if not for the cold.

But like them, he had to quickly finish his business before winter came. He was farther north than he would like, closer to the endless tundras of nearly permanent winter. The winters would be harsh, this one harsher now that he was alone. If he could not find his sister, he would find a pack to stay with until it passed over. He could not find his sister if he was dead.

For now, Miraak stepped lightly over the brown filth, towards a break in the mountain chain that blocked the eastern side of these Hinterlands. What lay beyond it was unknown to him, but his sister must be there. She had to be.
 
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I condemn you to living death. To eternal hunger for living blood. - by Miraak - September 03, 2016, 12:29 PM