Wapun Meadow get a medic for the general

This woman infuriated her, and she couldn't do a thing about it. Her weary muscles anchored her to the ground, her fighting spirit broken--at least for now--by the devil and his ilk. Maegi closed her eyes as the woman began to circle, speaking mockingly. She'd never met someone quite like this: Potema had been dark, and perhaps mad, but this she-wolf seemed beyond that.

Who tore your little face open? The words stung nearly as bad as the wound. So self-conscious about her forepaw when she was younger, Maegi hadn't realized how disfigured she might now look. The thought of it distressed her greatly, and a small whine escaped her ruined lips.

Who tore your little face open? "Molag Bal," she murmured, her voice listless and a little lisping. It was a lie, or at least just something to say, to shut the woman up. That man was not Molag Bal. The daedra seemed so far from her, tucked away in the deepest corners of Blackfeather Woods. She had never felt this abandoned, not even when Cicero and her brothers had left. Without her gods, she felt utterly alone.