Fairspell Meadow I told the witchdoctor

She moved, but she said nothing. Ganon did not recall Relmyna, perhaps for some fleeting memories of a pale woman who slunk at Cicero’s heels. He had no knowledge of how she had filled his mother’s role and bore Cicero’s second litter of children. The girl in front of him was technically his cousin — the daughter of his mother’s brother — but Melonii family trees were complicated, even with ‘normal’ genetic relations; Potema’s malformed brood were both his siblings and his cousins.

Well? Ganon’s voice became impatient as silence filled the air around them. Can you not speak? He peered into her eyes, as if he would gain some kind of confirmation. He lacked the connections that the rest of his kin had to the Daedra. It was not a quirk of his genetics but a purposeful rejection of the Daedra’s control over his life. All that was left was a vague murmuring, a general feeling rather than the clear voices. So he felt that vague, gentle pull as he glared at her. He nodded. What else would you be? he said, more to himself than to her. A Melonii, not a mute I mean. He snorted. You could just be messing with me with the silence. He grinned.