Blackfeather Woods that's not true--that's impossible!

set after this thread, so backdated a week and a half or so

Splashing through the swamp, Maegi quickly made her way to Nightcaller Temple from the glen, bewildered at what she had learned. She didn't quite understand it, exactly--but she knew it was wrong. Perhaps the gods could give her more clarity.

Cicero, her father! He was Potema's brother. She thought of having pups with Euron, or Ramsay. . .it just didn't come together, in her mind. How had this happened? Was this the reason Potema was so distant? And if so, why didn't Cicero keep a similar wide berth?

The girl finally exited the swamp and entered the clearing, the midday winter sun a calming warmth on her face. The hum of the gods grew stronger as she approached the rock, enveloping her in their noise.

"Māzigon, Maegi," they sang, drawing her ever closer. Like in her dreams. Closer, closer, closer, 'till her black nose touched the cool stone.

"Skorkydoso?" she murmured, one of the few Daedric words she knew already, her breath bouncing off the rock to warm her muzzle. "How?"

And they answered, but the words were lost on her. The tongue had not yet been mastered. Letting out a cry of frustration, Maegi threw her head back and sat on the grass. The voices quieted somewhat, and she looked around, wondering if anyone was close enough to hear her. Gods or otherwise.