Rain.
The Khajiit barely nodded, okay, that was the sound of rain. What must’ve roused him awake enough to register this struck again, a cold wet drop landing right on his nose, startling him enough for him to shoot to his knees in alarm, then sneezing, shaking his head and shivering.
Oh. Rain. It was raining, which meant this spot wouldn’t be dry much longer. He rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, groping blindly for a bucket, the old worn wood dampening with the drops that dripped from above, landing with dull, hollow taps. J’hasi watched quietly, still a little groggy from the unexpected wakeup call.
He needed to fix the roof. Somehow. While this shack was a little better than his previous ‘home’ (a scrape of dirt under someone else’s house), it still needed some improvement. The Khajiit had been so focused on digging out an escape tunnel that he’d neglected the roof. And the door. And…everything.
He cursed with another jolt of alarm, grabbing his cloak and tossing it over his pile of books, slipping underneath as well, holding it up enough to light a candle, looking over the tomes.
Oh. Okay. No water damage. J’hasi breathed a sigh of relief, pulling one off a stack and cracking it open. One of his favorites, actually, the cover long worn and the pages having that well-used feel to them as he turned them. With the rain drumming on the roof, the drips landing on his cloak, into the bucket, the warmth of the single candle lighting up the room just enough to read his story quietly…
It was a brief moment of peace in this hard time of his life.
vvardenfellcat 