Wheeling Gull Isle and the worms ate into his brain

The one eye he'd been left with was quite beautiful, wide and golden. A window to the soul that had endured so much and still lived to tell the tale. Well, not 'tell,' quite yet. But someday, perhaps, when his throat healed. Teamouse would have many stories to give the world, when he could talk once more.

Even as Maegi pondered his return to speech, he was speaking, giving her one hushed word. Sithis. The sound of it curled her mouth into a wide grin; the carnage of her left cheek might have made the sight of her joy macabre, but she thought nothing of it. She was simply happy for Mou and all the progress he had made. For placing the name of her Father in his mouth, his to keep forever.

"Yes," she answered, a delighted giggle in her throat. "That's right--Sithis. Our Father--Lord of Death. If he'd wanted us to die, Mou, he would have taken us already. But he didn't." Maegi inhaled, a shuddering, exuberant breath. She shuffled her paws, wanting to spring forward, to dance, to feel the warmth of the sun on her back and live.

It was all she had ever wanted in life, to be a voice for the daedra, to spread her family's truths cloaked in lies and deceit. And she had done it. She was doing it. The very thought of this had all but eliminated her headache, and her thirst was suddenly slaked.

She pushed her nose gently against Mou, pressing her skull against his neck. "I'm so happy I met you," she whispered honestly, fervently, closing her eyes against the warmth of his pelt.