Blackfeather Woods i'ma come out with my ride or die

His ears perked as a low howl rumbles through his feet. The man is near the borders, close enough to peek out at the woman who stands, so calmly, near the bloodstains and rotting corpses. She does not have dark fur, but Miraak knows that there was more to just fur color when it came to being a creature of the night. She is unfazed for now, but for all he knew she could be putting on a face. His eyes slid over to movement from the Woods; Atshen. He makes no noise, instead watching to see how Atshen greeted and tested the woman, to best guide him next on his duties as sentinel.