Blackfeather Woods The ghost of me was true but you've been haunted too

Titmouse sought higher ground, but Ramsay remained in the mire, seeming less bothered by the wetness that soaked into his legs. In truth he didn't really notice it. He did slosh closer, and refused to sit down in it, but didn't attempt to clamber onto the narrow bank with the red-ribbed man. He cast a look around the mire, turning slowly on the spot as he once more felt the weight of the spirits watching them. If there was favour in their invisible eyes, it was for Mou more than Ramsay.

Any family of Maegi's is mine to protect as well, he vowed, though it sent an odd, swooping feeling through his chest to think of Titmouse as Maegi's family. What did they mean to one another? But he knew his definition of family was a narrow and strange one, encompassing only a few select wolves and leaving out most of the rest of his bloodline. Bless Relmyna for her kindness.

His back hair lifted just a little at the mention of Sithis, but he wasn't as terrified of the void deity as some of his family were. Koume and Kotake had taught their little siblings enough about the daedra to get by, but admittedly, I don't know much about them either. Their names, what they stand for... little else. Ramsay wasn't even certain he believed they were more than stories. I was named for Malacath, daedra of the shunned. Maegi for Peryite, daedra of pestilence and order. He snorted derisively, then said, pretty sure our mother dearest meant to make mockery of us but she failed.