Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah,
Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!

As much as the dragonborn wants to despise the brightness of this little patch of bright beach and vivid ocean, she can't quite bring herself to hate it as much as she'd hoped. She could find value in the peaceful air, the gentle rolling and roaring of the ocean currents crashing against the shore. It is definitely relaxing, though perhaps she'd be more keen if it weren't quite so hot. Her black coat absorbs the sun's rays with greedy abandon, heating the dark and muscled mare beyond what she considers her comfort zone. The sun feels particularly hot this day, or perhaps it's simply her own imagination... or something else entirely. Regardless, she can feel the sweat beginning to coat her neck, beading and trickling down in narrow lines until they drip from her throat and into the pale sand below where it quickly disappears. Her concentration on... nothing, it seems, doesn't waver. She doesn't move, aside from the occasional flick of her long red-tipped tail or a twitch of her dark ears. The occasional breeze blows in from the ocean, ruffling her long locks.

But the dragonborn is steadfast.

Something had changed in her while she stood upon the beach, gazing out into the distance with those sickly green eyes of hers. First her breathing began to rattle, her lungs feeling strangely heavy and wet in her chest. The black mess hadn't built up enough for it to ooze from the mare's orifices, though it would be a bit more difficult to tell when it did due to her predominantly black coat. When she exhales, she feels the odd desire to sniffle and a tickle forms in her throat - bearable for now but likely to induce coughing a bit later. What the hell was this? Then, after just one heartbeat, she remembers. That damned stallion in the forest. He'd been ill when she stumbled upon him. His words are still vivid in her mind, something about it being too late for her. The dragonborn rather abruptly pins her ears back and narrows her green eyes to angry little slits.

Fucking bastard.

Dovahkiin had been thoroughly distracted with cursing the damned brute in her mind to notice the approach of another. It isn't until a familiar breathy voice interrupts her train of thought that the mare realizes she's no longer alone. The voice along brings a smirk to her face, remembering well the mare it belongs to. "Vokun fahdon." she breathes, the words somehow sexually charged despite herself. But she doesn't turn to face her. She can't. Whatever this disease is, the dragonborn would be unlikely to forgive herself if she spreads this disease to Ghost. Instead, she sighs softly, pinning her green orbs to the shifting ocean waves. "Ghost... there's something wrong with me. I... I think I'm sick." her sultry voice is somehow softer, dulcet tones erasing the rougher edges. Dovahkiin wants her company. She wants her shadow friend to stay but whatever this is, it's highly contagious. And try as she might to deny it, Dovahkiin actually does care for Ghost - perhaps more than she had ever anticipated.

DOVAHKIIN