Otter Creek Only here for the weekend

"Come, @Relmyna," he commanded as they left their turf. The rain was inconvenient, but it was warm enough that he did not care and it would make for cleaning when he returned. She looked dismal for a moment, he thought to recognise on the mess that was her face, but as he gave a stern glare it went away. Sheogorath had considered the thought of breeding with her, but for now it was a thought pushed away, for it seemed better to focus on good heritage. She was clearly not that, even if she had become loyal and subservient following her near-death experience. She had lost everything — he had made her lose everything — and now she was just a shell, a ghost. A thing he had thought he'd fancy, a plaything, but it was growing dull and so of late he had used her mostly as plaything and servant. His real attentions shifted, but after being effortless with Damien and driving him into madness, he had set his sights upon his sister. Time would prove if their moment had been a fluke or if it would lead to something more.

He looked like a skeleton moving through the lands as he made his way towards the creek. Relmyna followed, obedient as ever, the shell of the wolf she once used to be. Her fur clung to her body too, and she looked bad, he realised, though not nearly as bony as he did.

"Ah," Sheogorath said as he spotted a plant he was looking for. "This will do nicely." He gestured at Relmyna and she plucked the plant, root and all, and placed it on her back. It was while she did this that Sheogorath noticed another in the distance, braving the creek. It sloshed with water from the heavy rainfall as she dipped her feet into it. "Don't make a sound," he warned and then sank his teeth into Relmyna's shoulder. She sank to the ground with a whine muffled by the rain. With his paw he moved the plant he had just plucked to her wound and rubbed it in — causing the wound to bubble. Anyone who would touch it now would suffer the same fate poor Relmyna was facing; being numbed and disoriented. "Stay," he said with a wicked smile on his face before he turned away, turning his expressiveness to distress and he galopped the way of the wolf.

There was always plan B if she didn't fall for this, but it was too fun to not try. "Help! My friend was attacked!" he called out to her when he was next to her, shouting to reach over the rain. "You —" That was when he realised that Cicero had once met this wolf. "Please," he begged, "Please hurry, she's bleeding and I... I can't do it alone." Pleading eyes filled with a lot more emotion than that day his alter ego had first met this wolf stared at her, begging her to come.

It would be most convenient if there were others of the pack near in case she would suspect something and try to run for it. He trusted his own speed but he did not trust his strength. At least the heavy rain helped with muffling sounds if she would try to call for help or anyone else that was decent was nearby.