“They seem quiet, kinda like they wanna be left by themself, but…” The Khajiit frowned, his lips pouting out a little as he thought.
“I don’t know much about them, but I like their hair with the beads n’ braids n’ stuff. Maybe they live way out away from the rest of town so that kids won’t spook the fish while they’re tryin’ to make a living.”
Sun’s Height’s nights in
Hjaalmarch were short and restless, the air alive and bustling with swarms of mosquitoes.
He burned copious incense to keep them out, and it worked. Like a charm. Only
trouble was the thick smoke didn’t make his shack any less hot or stuffy. The
sun had set hours ago and yet he couldn’t lift a finger without breaking a
sweat. Couldn’t sleep, either.He stepped out on the
little ramshackle pier underneath the thatched overhang, bare-footed,
bare-chested and with his hair tied up out of his neck. Damn this godsforsaken
heat. Thank Kyne it was only a couple of days up to a week or two every year.
There was a pleasant breeze coming across the water, though. He sat himself down
on the edge, feet dangling over the water surface. He focused on the gentle
babble, rippling along the shore and around the pier’s supports. He closed
his eyes, lulled into peaceful, mindless being. That was until a sudden noise broke the rhythm. It sounded like a presence. Not an
animal. His eyes snapped open and he got up, taking a fishing spear off the
wall of his shack.“Who’s there?”
It was surprising just how warm Skyrim summers could get. He almost felt like he was back home, bugs and all, though lacking in trees and humidity. It was warm enough to shed most of his clothes and leave them with Ghost, his scarf wrapped around his face to keep mosquitos from biting at his nose, and his pantlegs rolled up to his knees. Though by now it seemed a wasted gesture, as they were currently soaked along with the rest of him as the Khajiit enjoyed the opportunity to swim without risking hypothermia. He’d been sent to get a book from around here, but Urag could wait a little longer. Besides, it had been ages since he could swim safely, at least since crossing Cyrodiil. And he was hungry, a little fishing wouldn’t hurt.
When he spotted a fish, J’hasi shifted from lazily swimming at the surface, rippling the surface and the moonlight reflected off it, to floating, still, breathing slow and smooth under the damp cloth of his scarf. He dipped his face under the surface to better gauge the distance, focus solely on the flash of scales in the deep. The Khajiit’s tail swished slowly at the surface to keep him in position, eyes fixed on the fish swimming lazily in brackish waters below and ahead of him. He inhaled deeply, shifting his grip and lifting his spear up for the strike when an unfamiliar voice startled him. His body jerked in the water and startled the fish, sending it zipping into the deeper waters.
J’hasi darted underwater, throwing his spear after it and chasing it with claws when it missed, but it was too quick for him and he was left to return to the surface with his speartip muddied and shaking water from his ears. He pulled down his scarf to breathe better, ears pricking at the scent of smoke he’d missed in the saltwater-soaked cloth until now, along with sweat and fish and how did he miss an entire shack? He looked up at the Nord on the dock, managing a weak wave, tail swishing under the water.
“Uh…hi. Sorry, was fishing and didn’t see your uh…everything.”
âśż Appearance
“They almost look how the early mornings in Skyrim feel, if that makes sense. Calm and all that. Well, not so much in Winterhold, it’s too cold and windy. May be the eyes… I dunno. I like their hair, though, with all the braids and bits in it. I wonder if they carved the bits themselves or not, or if places just sell them.”
vvardenfellcat 