jhasi drabble – vvardenfellcat

23. Value is found in something previously deemed worthless.

“Ey! Quiet down there, cat!” J’hasi hissed, ears flicked back when the guardsman threw a chicken bone at him for chewing on his bonds again. The Khajiit didn’t understand what was said, but cussed a long stream of Dunmeris and Jel back, to the annoyance of the Imperial. The other guard on duty sighed.

“Leave it. Damned thing can’t understand you anyway, wasted effort.”

“Drives me right up the wall with those chains goin’.”

“Get used to it. C’mon, another game of Nine-holes and you’ll forget all about it.”

“If the Captain catches us…”

“Keep your mouth shut and she won’t.” The guard huffed and went back to the table the two of them were at, picking at their evening rations and gambling. J’hasi glared at where he’d last seen the guard for a few moments more before looking at the bone on the floor of his cell. Sadly, there wasn’t meat left on it, only a little sinew that might make a small dent in his hunger, but…

He frowned, then reached out with his foot, scooting closer and closer to it until he had it in his grasp. He pulled it towards himself, then dropped it on top of his knee and leaned forward to take it into his mouth.

A sharp bite and the Khajiit cracked it open, finding the marrow inside dried up and hard, but he had some shards of bone to work with now. Instead of chewing away at the leather cuffs they’d had to put on him to get the shackles to fit, he had a makeshift lockpick now. Hopefully. The Dunmer he’d been neighbors to was long gone and likely would’ve scolded him for using something as inelegant as a chicken bone, but…if it worked, then he could be the one laughing.

J’hasi maneuvered the shard between his teeth, then arched his back to get onto his feet, pushing himself up to inch the shard closer to his fingers. He huffed when he finally got the shard between his clawtips, taking a short rest so his trembling legs would be still again. He was going to steal a whole loaf of bread when he got out, he was so hungry…

…

The Khajiit hissed at the bruises on his hips from where he’d gotten stuck trying to slip out between the bars of the window, but at least he was free now, albeit sore. He just had to…

…he’d forgotten that the prison place was surrounded by water, except the bridge. Xuth.

The Khajiit scrubbed his face with his palms before pressing hard over his eyes. He’d been in the library all day today, still sore but seemed mostly healed up now, thank the Hist. He’d have to thank that mer in the inn again later. For now, he had to prepare for tonight, already feeling the pull, that tension at his muzzle, his teeth, the drool gathering in his mouth at the scents of his classmates downstairs… J’hasi swiped over his mouth, taking another piece of jerky from his pouch and tearing into it, chewing while he checked his bag.

Harness, spare clothes, waterskin…full, okay, soap… He sighed, pushing aside his shirt to expose the wrapped packages underneath. Venison, not that fresh and not that much, either. He wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow

morning, but he didn’t have time to hunt for better, or even just for more. J’hasi pushed his shirt down over the packages. While the scent was enough to get that rousing hunger’s attention deep inside of him, it was more interested in the Nord student passing by. Onmund? He rubbed his forehead, trying to keep the throbbing headache at bay. He couldn’t remember. Was he forgetting something…? …he couldn’t remember that, either. Xuth.

J’hasi sighed, grabbing his dagger and stuffing it down into his pack too before closing it up and slinging it over his back.

Once in the courtyard he shivered, the wind picking up and snow starting to fall more heavily, further blanketing the College in yet more white. When he got to the trapdoor near the windows he checked the courtyard briefly (empty) before opening it and climbing down the ladder, making sure to tug a little on the rung after closing to make sure it was shut.

The Khajiit sniffed the air carefully, finding it much like it had when he first found these tunnels, just with some of his own old scent lingering with the dust and cold. He just had to find someplace deep down within the tunnels where he could tie himself up to wait out the night.

Maybe the tunnels would muffle his howls too.

Plot: Post-Under Saarthal

When J’hasi finally got back to college grounds he was exhausted, sore, and in need of a somewhat-soft place to lay down for the next…forever. He put his hand on the door to the Hall of Attainment, then hissed a low curse under his breath when he remembered something. He told Tolfdir he’d inform the Arch-Mage about what they found in Saarthal. The Khajiit sighed, knowing it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, reluctantly making his way to the Hall of the Elements, trying a different door than the one he found led to the Arcaneum, hoping it would bring him to where he needed to go.

At the top of the stairs he peeked around the corner, finding a massive room as well as a beautiful garden lit by floating magical lights. He could smell a fresh, newly-familiar scent as well, glad he didn’t have to go traipsing all over the grounds to find the Arch-Mage. J’hasi found the Dunmer in a chair near the garden, clearing his throat nervously.

“Um…s’cuse me. You’re Savos Aren, right?” The mer looked up, finger paused on the line they’d been reading.

“Yes, I am.” A brow arched.

“You are relatively new here, are you not? I have noticed you, but we have not spoken.”

“No, sir.” Savos chuckled.

“‘Sir’? How quaint.” The Khajiit swallowed, unsure if that was how he was supposed to address him. Whatever. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could faceplant into his bedroll.

“I need to speak to you about Saarthal.” The Arch-Mage sighed, fingers pressing into his brow.

“Please don’t tell me that another one of the apprentices has been incinerated. I have enough to deal with right now.” J’hasi shivered a little, was that so common here?

“We’ve found something in Saarthal, and Tolfdir thinks it’s important.” The Dunmer sighed, closing his book.

“Very well, I trust that you wouldn’t be here were it not significant. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Savos looked at him a little more closely.

“Tolfdir normally looks after your little group, yes? Since he’s apparently occupied, and I will need to see this discovery for myself, I think perhaps you should begin researching the subject. Speak with Urag in the Arcaneum. See if he’s aware of anything that matches your discovery.” The Arch-Mage got up from his seat, heading towards a rack of staves on the wall, pulling one down.

“And…good work. The next time you find yourself exploring Nordic ruins, perhaps this will be helpful.” he said, offering it to the Khajiit. J’hasi took it, surprised.

“Th…thank you, sir.” Savos smiled, then returned to his seat, cracking his book open again to his previous spot. J’hasi fidgeted a moment. He had to ask. He had to know if what he’d seen was real, not some exhaustion-fueled hallucination or something.

“Have you ever met with the Psijic Order?” Savos raised a brow.

“Personally? No, not I. One of their number used to advise the Arch-Mage when I was but an Apprentice here. But that was a great many years ago, before all the members of the order were called back to the Isle of Artaeum, and it disappeared entirely.” J’hasi’s ears flicked back. That didn’t soothe his worries all that much. He’d have to look into the Psijic Order, see what they could want with him, or with whatever that thing was in Saarthal.

“Thank you, sir.”

—

When he got downstairs, the Khajiit nearly bumped right into Faralda, putting his hands up, eyes shut and brows furrowed in mild irritation and tried patience, no doubt from…everything today. He let out his breath in a huff, the Altmer raising a brow at him before speaking.

“There you are. I’ve been trying to find you.”

He just. Wanted. To go. To sleep. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pinching the bridge of his muzzle near his furrowed brow.

“Sorry. Long day.” The Altmer frowned.

“I just wanted to let you know that Ancano’s been asking about you. I think he’s looking for you.” Cold shot through J’hasi’s core, eyes snapping open with alarm.

“Wh…why would Ancano be looking for me?” She glanced into the Hall of the Elements before looking back at him.

“I’m not sure. Just… Well, mind what you tell him, all right?” He swallowed.

“Is there a problem?” Faralda waved a hand a little as if to dismiss the anxiety brewing in the Khajiit’s gut, to little effect.

“No, no. Well, I don’t think so. Between the two of us, there are rumors about him. That this ‘advisor’ position he has is a sham, an excuse. That what he’s really doing is spying for the Thalmor, trying to feed them information. Whether it’s true, I can’t say. But it never hurts to be a little suspicious, does it?” On the contrary, it had saved his ass more times than he could count. J’hasi offered her a nod and a slight smile.

“Thanks for the warning.” The Altmer smiled back.

“You’re welcome.” He took his leave then, flinching at the cold before crossing the courtyard, mind set on one thing: sleep.

When J’hasi finally flopped onto his bed with a huff he lay there for a few moments in silence, his body aching all over, exhausted, his mind whirring through his concerns. The orb, the Psijic, the Thalmor whelp and his superior… He couldn’t figure out what to handle first, what was more of a concern. It just reeked like a disaster waiting to happen. Nothing ever coincidental happened without being related in the past, why would it be any different now?

At some point in his worrying his thoughts devolved into a spiraling mess of anxieties, moving, jumbling around too much to make sense…

Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

Chrysalism: The amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

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.

💀

Of course the roads around Riften had to be just as bad as the city.

The arrow had come as a surprise, burying itself deeply into his shoulder and knocking him off Ghost’s back with a yelp. The mare snorted and shifted uneasily as he hissed, rolling onto his side, pain radiating not only from his shoulder but now his head too from the landing. He heard the creak of a bow again in the trees.

“Go!” he snapped, the horse bolting ahead, towards Riften. He pushed himself up with his good arm, ears flicked back at the Imperial that was rushing towards him, a Nord further back by the trees, nocking another arrow. J’hasi huffed, backing up as he pulled out his dagger from its sheathe at his back, flipping it in his hand into a reverse grip, bringing it in front of him as he watched the Imperial grin, their shortsword likely to cause him problems if he wasn’t quick enough. He swayed a little, tail left to drag a bit in the dirt before he stopped, the bandit closer to him stopping a little too abruptly and leaving them a little off-balance.

He struck, punching them in the nose first, dropping back a little too late when a curse and a swipe of the blade left a burning line of pain over his cheek. Again, this time a fist burying itself into the Imperial’s gut, doubling them over as they gasped, airless. A knee brought up to slam into their face, blood gushing from their already-broken nose before he grabbed them from behind in a headlock, dagger at their throat while his other hand grabbed their sword-arm wrist, claws sinking into soft skin and tendon until they let go, dropping their weapon into the dirt.

“Don’t make me cut your throat. Leave me be and you’ll live.” The Imperial huffed, struggling in his grip. The Nord nocked another arrow and aimed.

“We’ll leave when you give us all you got, cat.” J’hasi hissed, then let go and dropped back when the arrow was released, the fletching brushing his hood before he drove his dagger into the Imperial’s kidney, twisting and pulling back again at the scream. He darted out from behind them, rushing the Nord, skidding across leaf litter to dodge another arrow before he slammed the butt of his palm up into their jaw, knocking their head back, leaving their throat exposed.

J’hasi sheathed his blade up and under their ribcage instead, hands scrabbling against his shoulders, a grip fastening around his neck before they weakened, coughing up blood and wheezing.

The Khajiit huffed, drawing back from the bandit as they fell to the ground, wincing at the cut over his cheek, hand gripping at his shoulder. He sighed, then froze when he smelled-

“B-Brielle! U-um…” J’hasi swallowed, ears pulling back, eyes wide with a bit of panic, flicking between the Breton and the dead Nord at his feet.

“I-I…um. I-I can explain…”

⌆ for a story about their family/home life

“<Jeer-rah! Jeeeeeeeer-rah!>” The Argonian’s fans spread, then grinned at the blur of black fur before they were tackled into the leaf litter. Jeer wrestled with Marsh, a mess of tails and limbs and giggles, rolling out into the dirt before Jeer finally pinned their friend down with a huff.

“<Got you!>” Marsh giggled before wriggling free and wrapping themself around the Saxhleel.

“” Sees stopped next to the two combatants, observing for a moment.

“<Marsh, Jeer, not in the middle of the path, okay?>”

“<O–KAAAAY!>” Marsh sang, wiggling before dropping back to the ground, tail up.

“<Sees, Sees, are we goin’ t’ the grove?>” The elder smiled, a bare hint pressing their lower lids closed.

“<Yes, little one. Jeer, you’re welcome to come with as well.>” Jeer grinned, getting up and brushing dirt off of their scales before Marsh scrambled onto their back with a huge grin on their face.

“<Jeer, Jeer, come wiff! Come wiff us!>” Jeer smiled, looping their arms to hold Marsh’s legs and lifting their tail to ease the strain of carrying the smaller, dirt-covered hatchling.

“<Yeah! Fireflies!>”

It had been a while since he had last eaten, wandering in the wastes devoid of game as he was, so the scent of a potential corpse brought hope into the Khajiit’s heart, energy in his step, and drool into his mouth. When J’hasi finally tracked the scent down to a small cave, he found the expanse of grey flesh, the Dunmer obviously dead for only a short while. His eyes flicked up to the cave mouth, listening carefully for a few moments before he relaxed. He crouched down, tail flicking out to rest along the ground as he took the forearm in a firm grip to sniff along the skin.

No poison. It was safe to eat. But his growling stomach urged him to just eat it raw, not to waste time cooking it. He could feel the hot scraping claws of hunger within his belly and it would be quicker relieved the sooner he got something into it.

J’hasi bared his teeth before he sank his fangs down into the meat of the forearm, resistance of the skin holding until a small series of pops and the ivory daggers sank down deep. The Khajiit’s tail tapped on the ground, pulling bites off of the bone, licking his lips free of the cool, coagulated blood oozing out. He preferred it warmer, but he couldn’t be picky. Especially right now, when he had thinned out to the barest of bones with fur draped over, clinging to his ribs like damp clothing. Each bite put him closer to the point that he could make a fire and cook the rest. But not yet. He was too hungry right now.

His tongue rasped against the bone, scraping off the last bits of flesh from the thicker, meatier part of the forearm before he felt something brush against his scarf. J’hasi’s eyes opened, looking down to see it was just the mer’s hand, limp and dead, fingers caught in the folds with his jostling. He returned to licking at the bones before he heard a quiet exhale, and the flesh under his other hand…shifted.

The Khajiit’s eyes snapped up to see the Dunmer sit up and stare eyelessly at him, half of their face ripped off, breath coming out in a smoky, groaning huff. The exhale caused a light in the empty eye sockets to glow, like a puff of breath on an ember. The fingers that were brushing against his scarf fisted in the scarlet cloth, dragging him closer to the bared, broken teeth, a groaning death rattle coming out from the dead…not-dead…UNdead mer.

“Give…it…back…” the mer groaned, breath rattling on the way out as J’hasi was frozen in place, heart racing, terrified but incapable of moving, speaking, only staring in horror at the undead’s face. It lifted him up a little higher by his collar.

“Give…it…BACK!” it reiterated, more smoke, the coal-eyes burning brighter as the sickly smell of charred bone and hair filled his nose. The Khajiit whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut in fear before he let out a sharp gasp, clutching at his stomach. He cringed, then cried out, squirming and writhing at the pain inside of his stomach, pain that only grew worse as he felt something squirming, ALIVE, inside of him.

“Mine…” the undead growled airily, J’hasi starting to scream as maggots ate their way out of his stomach, gagging as they came up his throat, choking him and when he coughed, more fell into his lungs and resumed eating. They were eating his throat, his lungs, his insides, the inside of his mouth and his tongue, blood dripping from his teeth as he whimpered and coughed and gagged, tears pouring from his eyes before he couldn’t make any sound at all but pained gasps and torn cries, his vocal cords devoured by the plague of writhing, pulsating, off-white maggots.

He could see the bites of flesh he had eaten dribbling out of his opened stomach cavity, carried by the swarm to be placed and reattached onto the undead’s torn arm, reclaiming its stolen flesh from the bowels of his own. J’hasi let out a small, strangled, screeching cry before blood started dripping from his eyes, the maggots having burrowed into the deeper reaches of his skull and finding new flesh to feast upon. It was agony, and he wanted it to end, to stop feeling the little bastards crawling under his fur, eating him alive from the inside out, and there was nothing he could do but watch through a growing haze of blood as the undead smirked at his suffering.

“You taste good, meat.” it hissed quietly, then the lights in its skull flared, and it bared its teeth before it lunged at him too.

He bolted upright, screaming, clawing frantically at his skin, at his face, tangled up in his blankets before he darted for the nearby shore, diving into the frigid waters and struggling and squirming against the phantom sensations he could still feel outside of the nightmare. He shivered in the freezing water before he finally surfaced, coughing and gagging and shaking. Ghost nickered at him from the shore, seeming concerned before she delicately picked her way over to him and lowered her head to sniff at his mane.

J’hasi realized he was crying, hiccuping sobs breaking from his mouth before he grasped her mane, pulling himself up onto her back, clutching at her soft mane and coarse fur, feeling the warmth rather than the sickly, clammy, cold touch of that undead. Ghost quietly walked back over to the fire, the roiling in the Khajiit’s stomach reaching a peak before he heaved over her side, vomit splattering onto the ground. Ghost waited patiently before she moved on, bringing him to the fireside before slowly settling down onto the ground.

The Khajiit slid off of her back to lay along her side, caught between the pale mare and the fire, still shaking and occasionally freaking out at the tiniest disturbance of his fur, tearing at the spot until either skin or fur was torn, leaking blood. He shuddered, burrowing as close as he could to the enormous horse, burying his nose in her fur to only smell her calm, living, breathing scent of snow, leather, dirt, fur, and grass, all tinged with chill seawater. Ghost nickered quietly again, nosing at his jaw and blowing hot air into his ear.

J’hasi wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her as close as he could, trying to think of just her scent and warmth as the memory of the dream slowly started to fade in its intensity.

4E 10, High Rock

A massive splash broke the relative quiet of the morning forest, startling a mass of birds that shot up into the canopy with alarmed cries. The source of said splash shot up out of the water, spitting out liquid before barking out in Jel.

“<Missed! Get it!>” A black Khajiit sprang from rock to rock, eyes on the massive fish that was going to be their next meal if he had anything to say about it. He could see the tear in the tailfin where Jeer’s spear had nicked it when it sprang out of the shallower waters, scooting upstream in an attempt to escape. J’hasi dove after the flash of scales, teeth sinking into the top of the tail, claws missing the first swipe, leaving him to get smacked right in the face with a panicking, indignant fish. The second swipe and claws held fast, the Khajiit surfacing quickly, trying to keep his mouth shut even as a mild panic fluttered in his chest at not being able to properly breathe for a few moments. Jeer caught up a few moments later, chest heaving.

“” J’hasi huffed with a mouthful of squirming fish, grabbing it more firmly with his hands before snapping its spine, holding it out for his friend to take.

“<Fen don’t miss next time.>” Jeer sighed, taking the fish by the gills, a slight smile on their face at the weight.

“<And here I thought you didn’t mind getting a little wet.>”

“” He shook his head, water sprinkling over the surface of the small river shallows before he got up, more water pouring from his sodden fur and clothes. Jeer made their way back to shore, grabbing their knife and setting to work gutting their catch, splitting it in half for the two of them to share, scale side down on the rock.

“<Come, while it’s fresh.>” J’hasi sighed, wringing out his mane before sloshing out of the water too, dropping to a crouch to pick up his half and sinking his teeth into the flesh, picking a bone out before chewing, setting to work to pick out the other bones from what he wasn’t currently chewing. Jeer bit into their half of the fish with a smirk.

“<Only hatchlings pick at their meals, Marsh.>”

“<I’m also fond of not choking.>” Jeer shrugged, continuing to eat, looking out over the river, the trees… They sighed.

“” J’hasi huffed.

“<Ff-this place isn’t nearly as dangerous as home, relax. Fhe worst is probably a bear.>”

“<What’s that?>”

“<Um…a big furry fing wiff-with teefth and claws and a nasty temper. Powerful, too.>”

“<…so like the thing you’re trying to cure yourself of.>”

“<…if you wanna put it fat way…>”

“<Can’t say I’m eager to meet such a thing. I don’t mind testing my craft, but I’d like to live long enough to improve upon it.>”

“<Fen practice your aim first.>” J’hasi took another bite of fish, a little more aggressively than needed when it jerked, as if the fish was trying to get revenge on him for catching it. Jeer finished their half, licking their teeth clean of flesh with a satisfied hum.

“<Wonder if the birds here are any good. You said we were going where there wasn’t much standing water, right?>”

“<Birds around here are too small. Not worth fhe effort.>”

“<Iunno, that one seems a decent size.>” J’hasi turned, freezing mid-chew when he saw a massive raven perched on a fallen log nearby, watching the two of them. The scent would’ve given it away if the size wasn’t unusual enough. Burning herbs, entrails…and too intelligent of a stare for just any normal bird. He stared back for a moment before dropping his fish to the rocks and darting after it. The raven startled and flared its wings before taking off into the forest. He could hear Jeer calling after him, but he was not going to let this bird go. He knew what it really was.

J’hasi was still a little tired from the fish escapade before, feeling that itch that was growing stronger night by night, one he tried to stave off by eating more raw meat than usual, one that he didn’t want to give into right now.

The itch that was the damn reason he was chasing this thrice-damned bird into the forest like a madman in the first place.

“<Marsh! Slow down!>” The enormous raven let out a caw as if agreeing, which set the Khajiit’s jaw on edge, baring his teeth before he dipped under another branch, then sprang off of a fallen trunk, fangs and claws bared. The bird fluttered in a panic, losing some speed, which cost it its slim lead. The moment the Khajiit caught it, it poofed into a cloud of acrid smoke that stung his nose and eyes, the two of them hitting the ground hard, tumbling to a halt. Jeer caught up a few moments later, finding the Khajiit panting, knifepoint at the hollow of a bewildered and out-of-breath Breton’s throat. The Breton panted out a laugh.

“You certainly caught me off-guard. So, is there something I can do for you? A spell? A love potion? A tonic to soothe that awful temper of yours?” J’hasi hissed.

“Cut the games. I know what you are.”

“Clearly, else you wouldn’t’ve been so determined to chase down a harmless bird.” Jeer made a confused noise behind him.

“<Uh…where’s the bird?>” J’hasi growled, ears flicking back.

“<Later, Jeer.>” The Breton smiled.

“I don’t suppose your large friend there could retrieve my cloak? It’s a bit nippy out here.”

“Don’t think so. You aren’t going anywhere.”

“<It’s naked.>”

“<Quiet.>” The Breton sighed.

“It’s hardly civilized to have a conversation like this. What if someone happened upon us? Knowing those living in the cities, they’d gossip about you two for years.”

“Don’t care. You have information I want, and you’re going to tell me if you want your throat to stay intact.” The man looked at him closely, then chuckled.

“My, my, you do have a problem.” J’hasi growled, only to yelp when the Breton moved quicker than he expected, grabbing his wrist and twisting it around behind his back, freeing himself in the process. The Breton then released him, dropping the dagger and brushing himself off, looking up at Jeer.

“Would you be so kind as to return my cloak to me? I daresay that having a conversation in the nude isn’t how I would spend a lovely morning like this.” Jeer stared back blankly.

“<Uh…what did they say?>” J’hasi rubbed his wrist, glaring at the witch.

“<Give me his cloak.>”

“”

“<Just give it.>” Jeer sighed, picking up the worn heavy fabric from where it was tangled on a branch.

“<Touchy, touchy. Are you going to tell me where the bird went?>”

“<Fhis is fhe bird, Jeer. Don’t let him have fhe cloak, it might be how he shapeshifts.>” The Breton frowned a little.

“If you’re concerned that somehow having the cloak means I’ll turn back into a bird and fly away, I assure you that I can do that well enough in just my skin. I just want my pipe is all. And some tea, if you’re willing to have some manners for five minutes.” J’hasi scowled as Jeer handed him the cloak, eyes locked on the Breton.

“You shift, I’ll do the same, and I won’t be so gentle catching you the second time around.” The Breton smiled.

“No need for that, I’m afraid. You’ve tuckered me out. I really should get out more.” J’hasi gave the cloak a small sniff, catching the scent of herbs and the like, but nothing like the cloud that had surrounded them after he caught the witch. He handed it over with a scowl, the Breton accepting it gratefully.

“Thank you. Now, have a seat. You’ve intrigued me, so I’ll be willing to talk for a little bit, provided you keep your teeth and claws to yourself.” J’hasi warily watched as the Breton sat down, wrapped up in his cloak before extracting a few pouches and a waterskin, patting around a moment before apparently finding the pocket that contained a long pipe. He tamped down some dried herbs into the bowl and lit it with a hiss of fire magic from his fingertips, waving it off once the insides were lit enough for a few puffs.

“Of course if you’re so adamant on standing, you can do that too. It’s terribly rude, I was hoping that someone like you would have some manners. Travelers from Black Marsh, I presume?” J’hasi’s ears flicked back.

“What makes you so sure?” The Breton smirked around his pipe, a curl of smoke escaping from between his teeth.

“Your large friend is dressed like someone from the inner marsh tribes, as is the dialect of Jel you’re both speaking comes from. I spent a fair amount of time in Black Marsh, sadly not long enough for my liking, but when you run across the wrong clan, sometimes a retreat is the smartest thing to do.” He beamed at Jeer.

“<Sit, enjoy yourself for a moment. No harm done, just a little misunderstanding is all.>” Jeer’s eyes widened at the Jel. Accented, but understandable. They sat down with a thump, tail curling around their legs.

“<So are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I have to keep sitting in the dark?>” The Breton smiled, pulling out a cup from his cloak, pouring in water from the skin, already piping hot to steep before offering it to Jeer.

“<My name is Grantham. I’m a witch of Glenmoril Wyrd, which is why your friend here took after me like a mad lupe.>” Grantham smiled, giving the Khajiit a knowing look.

“” J’hasi’s muzzle wrinkled a little before Jeer gave him a look, to which he dropped to sitting in the grass as well, fingers still curled around the handle of his dagger.

“<Could say fhat. Fhey said fhey cured me, but next mooncycle I shifted. Been looking for fhem ever since.>”

“<Names?>” J’hasi hissed a little.

“<Ettiene, Isobel, and Fallaise.>” Grantham hummed, nodding a little as he poured a cup for the Khajiit, setting it in front of him, then a cup for himself, corking his waterskin and placing it back into his cloak once more.

“<I’ve heard of them. New, relatively speaking. Imperials from Cyrodiil that learned the art. Wouldn’t trust them for an inch.>” J’hasi’s ears flicked back.

“” Grantham chuckled, smoke ghosting between his teeth before he removed his pipe, inhaling the fumes from his tea before drinking.

“<Yes, which is why you hunted me down like the wolf lurking just under your skin. Persistent. Focused. You wear it well. Better than most.>” J’hasi scowled.

“” The Breton smiled, replacing his pipe between his teeth.

“<Rejecting a blessing from Hircine himself is a bad move. But I understand not everyone sees it as such.>” The Khajiit’s ears flicked back.

“<It wouldn’t be the first time I rejected a Daedra’s ‘gift’.>”

“<Aren’t you a bold one.>” Grantham turned to Jeer-rah.

“<The tea is fine to pair with fish, my friend.>” Jeer frowned, glancing at J’hasi before stuffing the fish that the Khajiit had ditched earlier into their mouth.

“<I’m just following them. And listening.>” The Argonian picked up the tea and gave it a sniff, fans spreading before taking a sip, eyes closed. Grantham chuckled.

“<You’ll go far. It is a pleasure to meet you.>” He turned back to J’hasi.

“<If it’s a cure you want, you’ve caught the wrong bird. My specializations lie elsewhere. Hircine and I are not on speaking terms currently, and I haven’t been in contact with the rest of the coven in some time.>” J’hasi’s muzzle wrinkled, the Breton holding up a hand to stop him when his mouth opened.

“<However…I will make inquiries the next time I come in contact with them. Sniff me all you want, you’ll find that I rarely lie. Little point in it when you’re conversing with one who can smell deceit. Speaking of…>” He pulled a smaller pouch out of his cloak, sprinkling a few petals into the Khajiit’s tea before handing him the rest of the pouch.

“<Having a bit of that before bed will ease your temper. I’d suggest allowing your wolf some human flesh now and then. While most would be opposed to that sort of diet, I understand that some Saxhleel tribes practice cannibalism, so perhaps that isn’t outside of your comfort zone.>” J’hasi’s eyes narrowed.

“” Grantham smiled.

“<Learning to appease lycanthropes is part of the job. Many of Hircine’s faithful are blessed in a way as you are, and do not handle it well. A cure isn’t as widely distributed.>” The Breton smiled, taking another sip of his tea.

“<Feel free to seek out other witches if my answers do not please you. You’ll find that a great many are not as sociable as I. Especially after such rude treatment.>” Grantham took a deep pull of his pipe before looking at J’hasi more seriously.

“<Mind your temper. Even with the full moon approaching, not all witches are so accommodating.>” The Breton finished his tea with a sigh, a few more puffs on his pipe before the smoke abruptly ceased from the bowl, breathing the rest out in a curling stream from his mouth.

“<And now…I must take my leave. Enjoy the tea. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.>” Grantham pulled his cloak around himself, then a puff of smoke and he was an enormous raven once more, and now that he wasn’t flying away, the Khajiit noticed that his feathers were faintly patterned with the same markings as his tattoos. And then he flew away. Jeer smiled.

“<For a smoothskin that turns into a bird…I like them.>” A moment’s pause and the Argonian looked over to J’hasi’s tea.

“<Are you gonna drink that?>” J’hasi sighed, picking it up and smelling it, finding nothing that seemed to be poison, then took a sip.

…it was delicious.

Your character meets themselves as they were when you first started writing here.

Alternatively, if you haven’t been around as long or don’t feel your character is different enough, they meet themselves as a child or teenager.

It had to be a dream.

He was in Black Marsh, on the outskirts of where he was allowed to wander from the tribe as a hatchling. He could even smell Jeer’s scent nearby, a comforting scent that he’d long missed, fireflies occasionally flickering in and out of sight…

Wait…

There was a small, mud-splattered patch of black fur at the shore of one of the deeper parts of the swamp, one that he was specifically forbidden to enter. J’hasi approached the small Khajiit quietly, crouching down and watching the shimmer of scarce sunlight flickering over its murky surface with them, though the smaller ball of fur had their face buried in their arms folded over their knees, the barest gleam of green obscured by the mess of dirty mane. J’hasi shifted, then sat down fully, keeping quiet for now. He almost started a little when the Khajiit finally spoke.

“<You smell funny.>” J’hasi huffed out a small laugh, barely there.

“<Howso?>”

“<Like me, but not. Why’re you here?>” J’hasi swallowed, looking at the fading flickers of lights, a few brave fireflies skirting the water’s surface.

“<Don’t know. Dreaming, maybe.>” Not like any dream he’d had before, this one was far too calm and…weird… The smaller Khajiit rocked a little from side to side, quiet before finally lifting their head, and yeah, that was definitely the face he’d seen back in his days as a hatchling, those features he’d hated then, covered with mud and cursed. Back when he was called Gee-Ei.

“” J’hasi swallowed again, recalling those nightmares as well, though a little less detail, more vague. But that feeling of terror remained firmly implanted in his memories.

“” There was almost a…ripple in the dream, like something had disturbed the surface of a puddle, and when he looked over again, Ei had grown, more scared-looking, fidgeting more out of fear than uncertainty, fur filthy but in a different way, and wearing a single shirt rather than the woven knots and cloth of the tribe.

“<M’scared. Really, really, really scared. I want t’go home, I miss Jeer, I miss Sees, I wanna go home.>” J’hasi tried to swallow past the knot in his throat but couldn’t, wanting to comfort the distressed…them, him, from back then, but not knowing how. Another ripple and Ei was older still, even thinner, even more scared, but with that firm defiant edge, that anger he could even feel from here, the scraps he’d worn in the Imperial City all those years ago, thin and useless against the cold winters’ bite. Being stared at like that…J’hasi shivered a little. Ei’s eyes were hard, muzzle wrinkled, twitching a little, even as the sheen of tears gathered in their eyes. And then the next ripple made everything seem cold, dark, Ei vanishing without a trace.

J’hasi shivered, seeing his breath ghost out into the air, a little scared now… He froze in place when he saw those eyes flickering in the dark, that heavy breathing, that huge, dark shape before it growled, then darted towards him. Teeth bared, going right for his throat and biting down and blood and-

The Khajiit’s limbs darted out to fight against the massive wolf that wasn’t there, his hands striking stone at full force and making him curl up and hiss in pain, his fingers trembling. His breathing was shaky, ragged, but he could smell the lack of blood, could smell the scents of the Hall of Attainment, the mix of cold stone, people, fur, straw, books, and per usual, a hint of something burning. Not a hint of wolf, or blood, or…

He was crying.

J’hasi hissed out a small curse in Jel, swiping over his eyes before pushing himself upright, still shaky but…he had to get up. Take a walk. Something. Just…as soon as he got control of his fucking emotions again…

i send the symbol for a happy memory – six

He wasn’t expecting his morning to begin with a pair of eyes staring him down.

J’hasi’s fur puffed, his own eyes locked on them for a few moments before their owner finally blinked, a slight curl at the corner of their mouth and lower lids pressing up in a happy smile. Jeer-rah’s voice was a little rough this morning, fans spreading out and illuminated by the patches of sunlight filtering down through the trees.

“<Good morning, Ei.>” The Khajiit smiled a little in return, fur starting to flatten as he rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, his other hand groping for his blanket to pull up even higher. Jeer chuckled, pulling the hem away from his fingers.

“<As much as I like watching you sleep, it’s time to get up.>”

“<S’not time yet, Jeer… Sleep more…>” The Saxhleel huffed through their nose, nudging their sleepy friend, amused at the warm mess of their feathers.

“<I’m hungry and I don’t know which fish are the tasty kinds.>”

“<Jeeer…>”

“<Eiiiiiiii…>” There was a few moments longer of stubborn, sleepy silence before Jeer-rah crawled on top of their companion, squashing him to the ground. The squirming protest made their smile grow until finally, J’hasi relented, smacking his hand on the Argonian’s stomach.

“<Alright, alright, I’m up! Off!>” Jeer chuckled as they slid off, crouching next to the Khajiit as he pushed himself up to sit, glaring a little at his friend until their fans pulled back, making a cheeky expression as they leaned closer. He huffed out a laugh, pushing the Saxhleel’s face away with a firm press on their nose.

“<You’re intolerable.>” The Khajiit complained, yawning hugely and exposing his teeth in the growing sunlight, scratching at his jaw. Jeer preened.

“<Intolerable, but I get what I want. Like right now, for instance.>” J’hasi stretched a little, joints popping before pulling himself out of his blankets, Jeer laying on the still-warm furs for a few moments while the Khajiit stretched his legs and pulled off his shirt.

“<Did you make ff-the trap yet?>” he asked, already heading for the shore. The Argonian rolled to their feet, following.

“<Yes, but I don’t know which ones are the good ones.>” J’hasi crouched down near the trap, eyes flicking over the fish swimming in jerky, darting circles within the sides of the trap.

“<Any of fese are good. Fat one might be a little bland, ff-though.>” Jeer leaned against their warm friend with a smile, nearly pushing them over before their tail curled to support themselves a little more. The Khajiit smiled, closing his eyes and enjoying the quiet.

“<You got stuff for a fire?>” he asked, the Saxhleel chuckling.

“<You and your food-burning.>”

“<Should give it a try, Jeer. Warm meals are nice.>”

“<I’ll think about it. Hist knows I’ll have time with how long it takes.>”