Blackfeather Woods Sleep is a little Death.

ooooo

It had become an almost everyday occurrence that Maegi made her way through Namira's Mire to the Temple, whether on a solo mission or to meet Miraak there for lessons. She especially liked to go at twilight, when the sky was still bright enough to light her way but it was just dark enough to set the Altar aglow.

Her jaws were filled with a mouse she had managed to kill--she had been told that offerings in blood to the gods satisfied them, and this would have to do, as she hadn't had the opportunity to slay a larger animal. . .like another wolf. The small creature swinging from her jaws, Maegi trotted awkwardly through the swamp, letting out a small sigh of relief through her nostrils as she entered the clearing; she did not like the swamp, much.

All relief left her body in less than a second as she gazed out to find who but her mother at the Altar, engaged in some sort of ministrations there. She dropped the mouse to the ground and hung back, wary. She had not seen her mother in. . .gods, how long had it been? And when she had, Potema had been in a poppy-induced stupor.

But her eyes seemed bright, from this distance, at least, and her movements were sharp. Maegi felt uncomfortable, being here with her, and resolved to wait in the shadows, like Euron, until she left. Her mother would probably smell her, but no matter--she'd probably just ignore her, like always.