Ravenshook Cliffs I found myself staring at you

were it not for the dark nose and the blue hue of the ivory man’s eyes, wintersbane might’ve mistaken him for an albino — like one of the medics that tended to him when he washed up on some foreign shore half dead ( he has a particular talent for avoiding the grim reaper just barely, apparently ). he draws nearer and so long as the stranger does not invade his personal space, wintersbane remains like the stone he is carved from: stoic; unyielding.

the affirmation wasn’t really needed but wintersbane tucks it away all the same, though he’s unsure what to do with it. he has no interest for deities and religions …not anymore. his faith died with relmyna; lain to rest with her bones at the alter of the daedric gods now dead to him.

i was, wintersbane draws on a breath. once.

word count: 143