The Heartwood Will you tear my skin?

Tilting his head in the other direction, he sees the surprise there too — almost mirroring Alduin’s own. His gaze follows as the giant man lowers his head to sniff the ground, a smile almost overcoming a scarred visage. 

It happens on occasion.

Al gives him a dry humored look accompanied by a quick raise of twin brows and a huff of breath from his nose. “We’ll see.” He adds as a tease, but just like that, he’s trekking a few feet further into this foreign environment.

Until he hears a grassy plop and a growling purr he can’t quite ignore. With his body facing away from the other, he turns his head around like an owl in the night. Only to find his newfound companion stretching out and rubbing all over the moss. He stares, deadpan and quiet.

“Very indulgent of you.” He hums back. Absentmindedly tracking crimson orbs down the man’s figure.

Not allowing himself to stare for long he turns away, swaying a curled tail over his hips before shaking off his pelt once more. He merely stares and stares at the nature before him now. 

“I may find myself here more often.” He murmurs quietly.

It reminds him of the Strath — of the Saints.

And then, all of a sudden, he wants to leave.