Blackfeather Woods sins not tragedies

Her words slowed, then ended as the pale eyes found themselves on her. They were sharp, chips of ice that remained frozen, like a glacier. And they unnerved her. She wondered what presence lingered in the soul of Abraxas. She could link the other three siblings to Daedra, or presences  as she often did to the others of Blackfeather Woods: Astrid, Boethiah. Keelut, Hermaeus Mora. Atshen, Molag Bal. But Abraxas? He was an anomaly. No Daedric Prince matched his eerie silence, his cold gaze. Sometimes she wondered if he was Jyggalag. Sometimes, she wondered if he was Sithis. 

Why are you hurting them? She asked, wondering if she would find any answer, or silence and the pained cries of crows.