Silverlight Terrace Cruel

Alduin flicks his gaze over to the other man, witnessing the smirk upon his lips. “We’ll speak to the skull and see what he has to say about it.” He hums.

It’s easier to say that the skull has the answers then the walking entity that hangs on his shoulder all day does. For Banesteppe will give him a name — a more suitable one for the man he has yet to become.

Yet, Alduin’s condensed expression only worsens when the other gives him an another that is much less than what he wanted. It shows in the way he side eyes him again — a subtle irritation or heat present in his eyes.

“That’s not good enough. Would Sovereign know more?” He asks, tone clipped. “I’ll kill the red woman myself and all she holds dear.”

It’s what Nyra would’ve wanted…