lingraav yolos ag kilmin nau strunmah reid.
nevonaar bo voknau lok

The dragonborn is no stranger to the night, no stranger to the darkness. She rather prefers it. Finds solace and comfort in its cool embrace. The darkness is familiar to her, perhaps more-so than even the light of day. Her mostly black coat helped her blend in, only her green eyes and vivid white stripes fighting the shadow's hold. Using it to her advantage is the only way she's able to survive on her own in the wilderness. So far, she's been successful but she owes most of her success to her ability to quickly adapt. Well, that and her innately selfish personality. Her loyalty is to herself alone; her thoughts centering around her own needs and desires. Life is short and cruel, there is no sense in worrying over someone else - someone that surely has an agenda of their own.

All creatures use one another for their own gain.
All creatures are selfish; they just don't all embrace it so fully as Dovahkiin.

The darkness in Helovia holds its' fair share of predators. Each one searching for their next meal and many of them searching for the easiest meal, the greatest return on the investment. The dragonborn's smaller stature should have made her more of a target but she'd fought hard enough to keep them at bay, to make herself a horrible investment. Desperation would break that contract but with birdsong transitioning to tallsun, there are far easier and much more satisfying meals to obtain. The black mare, with her hard muscles and large antlers, could hold her own: the red staining her coat is strangely, and coincidentally, symbolic of the carnage she'd inflicted back home. Even still, she hadn't been banished. She'd simply slipped into shadows and left.

As darkness of night settled in over Helovia, the dark mare's black hooves thump softly against the grassy terrain. The dragonborn moves swiftly but quietly, heading back towards the trees where her life here began. Clouds shift to cloak the stars, making it a bit more difficult for her to see. She knows the path well enough, having spent all of her time creating a mental map of this new world, and likely could have made her way to her destination blindfolded. Her heart, it seems, knows the way. She lopes across wide open fields, through meadows and over streams until she reaches the tree line of the deep forest. She slows, transitioning to a careful walk. Each hoof is carefully and methodically placed - attempting to avoid the driest underbrush and twigs. She isn't completely silent, as that would be impossible without the magic she'd had back home. Without the magic that Helovia stripped from her.

Dovahkiin slipped skillfully through the trees, careful to avoid banging her large antlers against the trunks. At first, everything she sees is familiar and fully expected - trees, grasses, bushes, the usual forest bits and pieces. After a few moments, however, something unexpected blocks her path. No. Not something but rather, someone. As she moves a bit closer, she inhales deeply and samples the air. Intermingling with all the usual earthy smells is something distinctly masculine. It's thick and heady enough to cause her to pause. Her eyes examine him from a distance and she can't help but notice how tall he is and that his back is to her. Curiously, she moves to the right and circles around to the side. The dragonborn looks him over quietly, her gaze inevitably stopping to focus on something dark and somewhat shiny staining his nose and seemingly oozing from his eyes. "Fosro folaas voth hi?" she asks, her voice gravelly and innately laced with sultry undertones. "What's wrong with you, stranger?" she clarifies, remembering rather belatedly that she hadn't found anyone that understood the Thu'um.

DOVAHKIIN