Blackwater Islands trickster

He notices her burning, two-toned gaze on him and he almost cherishes it. He doesn’t let himself linger long, for her alter beckons them both to the sacrifice laid on it. A coyote, still twitching sadistically in its journey to the afterlife. Alduin lays his eyes upon it and watches it with twisted interest. Not a single spec of emotion besides muted wonder glimmering in wine red orbs. Flowers and plants of many type surround it, as well as her sacred bones. He has to look a second longer for the skyrock, only to notice it’s shoved haphazardly into the coyotes torn and bloody throat. 

His Shadow speaks then. Always a pinch cryptic with her words, but Alduin has no problem understanding their meaning. He knows now why they’re here and he fitfully feels his heartbeat faster with anticipation. 

Her eyes bear unto his, he shifts his gaze back to her. There’s a darkness to his gaze, excitement, anticipation, and uncertainty for what is to come. Uncertainty about what he will find out about his curse — his Banesteppe. All of these emotions are muted though, not even on purpose either. For his life has been hard on him and the tricks his mind plays even more so. 

So when she signals that she’s ready when ever he is, he nods once in return. “Then I too, am ready, my Shadow.” He rumbles in that deep, scratchy baritone. Eagerly anticipating what may happen next.

He almost believes he won’t get out of this alive. He can feel the fuming energy of Banesteppe behind him — ever present. But he isn’t happy. Nor is happy whenever Alduin is in the Shadows presence. He’s a jealous being much like himself and he demands every ounce of the cursed one’s attention. 

But right now, Alduin only has eyes for the listener.