Firestone Hot Springs You eat us up

Sry for the long post idk where the muse came from lol :>

Her words ring through the silence of the night. The hellhound looks to her then, everything about her is calming — the way she carries herself and stands. He can tell she watches him closely though, Alduin finds it interesting. A prey animal only knows something is not a predator if they willingly turn their back on them. She has not let him out of her sights.

Which is reasonable. If Alduin were anyone else he wouldn’t let himself out of his sights either. He knows what he looks like, he knows how he acts, he knows what’s wrong with him. He can’t help it and he won’t be changing anytime soon either.

So if she does not know the name of Ursus, who would? Apparently that’s for Alduin to find out on a later date.

He hums lowly when she tells him this. It’s a mere sound of acknowledgment. She does not have what he wants. He can’t tell if she’s lying either. Even if she is, what would he do? She saved him from a freezing death in that River not so long ago. It wouldn’t be right to kill her for such little reward. It wouldn’t be right to kill her for many other reasons as well, but his moral compass is just as fucked up as his father’s, so what’s to stop him?

Images of his time at Moonglow pass by his minds eye. They were nice to him. She brought him back to health, the wolves there played with him and trained him. She saved him.

He stands there for a few seconds, his eyes would seem distracted for he’s lost in his head and the memories that present themselves. Only for her voice to bring him back to the present once more, only this time her words strike him much harsher than the previous.

You are hurt where I cannot see, I think, Alduin. She says, only for it to follow with another question: Where is your father?

Alduin blinks at her, tongue flicking out to lap at his chops and his eyes look away to the far distance. Her verbal acknowledgment of his state is only more confirmation that Banesteppe has him by the withers and he’s not letting go — he’s getting worse and worse. What will happen to him if this continues? Alduin hopes for death, but knows it will not come easy, for his blood is that of a fighter.

He cannot die. He will not die.

When he looks back to her his eyes are dark with knowing. “He is not here. No one is.” He says simply. 

The young brindle clears his throat and holds his unblinking eye contact for a little while longer. “I am ill — sick.” He informs her. “But there is no help for me. Except death.” He rumbles back as if he’s used to the idea.