Dragonborn Girlfriend: Vyre (special preview)

I started noticing some strange things a few days ago. There were some noises at first, some bushes moving. I just figured it was some animals around the cave. But then I started noticing other things like tracks in the mud, strange markings at the outside of my cave, along with discarded apple cores and missing plants from my garden. Perhaps I had something bigger than the usual rabbit or mole sneaking around.

I had been living out here on my own for a while. I don’t mind keeping to myself, it’s better than the alternative. So seeing signs of life out here bigger than a rabbit, but smaller than a moose, is quite disturbing to me. I laid a trap, hoping to catch whatever has been stealing from me and stalking around my property. Although the trap and whatever was thieving from my garden was gone by morning. There were traces of blood in the dirt and on some of the plants as well. Hopefully, this warning was enough to scare them off. And if that didn’t do it, then the foreboding storm clouds above would be the finishing touch.

Thunderstorms around here were no joke. I’ve been all over this world, and the rains here seem to fall heavier, harder, and meaner than most. The sky sounds threatening, and the darkness that surrounds them before and feel like deathly omens. Not to mention it can get so cold.

Later in the evening, I had to go to the mouth of the cave to fetch some wood from the box. As I stepped outside my door I could smell blood. My nostrils flared and there was a burning in my chest. The blood was close, and I could taste the warmth of it upon my tongue. It had been so long since I had been overcome by this feeling. I took a few deep breaths and went towards the firewood box. Whatever was bleeding was sitting just on the other side of it. I came around, seeing a damp soggy creature curled up against the corner, huddled to the box. The scent of blood was so strong, so overpowering. It gave me memories of battles, of my teeth sinking into flesh. I turned my head, catching a cold breath of rain and moss.

I came closer to the figure, seeing the leg was stretched out and wrapped crudely with ripped cloth. I gently lifted the hood to see what I was dealing with. It was you, a human woman. You were unconscious and pale, soaking wet from the rain, bleeding heavily from the trap I had laid. I suddenly felt very guilty. But who on earth would come back to the place where they had been injured. A fool perhaps. A desperate fool maybe.

I took you inside against my better judgement. I dressed the wound, wrapping it properly to help stop the bleeding. I removed the wet clothes and laid you on my bed to rest. You looked small and helpless, I suppose I am a fool as well.

The storm raged on, thunder booming as loudly as cannons, and yet you didn’t budge. I watched you as you slept, wondering how you can sleep so peacefully in such chaos. I must have dozed off in my chair, because I am woken by the sound of you stumbling out of bed. You’re on the floor, barely able to walk from your injury. You’ve made it quite far though as you’ve reached your clothes drying by the fire.

I get up from my chair and you cry out, ducking down and covering your head. “I won’t hurt you. But you do have a lot of explain to do. You’ve been thieving from my garden for a while now.” I stand before you, crossing my arms against my chest. “Come no, get up.”

You remain hoveled on the floor, whimpering softly.

“Get up,” I commanded, but you still didn’t move.

I grabbed you at the nape of the neck like a kitten and placed you back into my bed. You scurry away, going to the corner.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re far too close to death for my tastes.” I pulled up a chair and sat down. “All I want is an answer as to why you’re thieving from me.”

I saw your eyes for the first time, they’re quite large and dark in color. You whimpered again, as you slowly began to rise. Your hair fell in your face and I noticed how choppy and uneven it was. Some pieces were long and flowing while others are sharp chops and jagged layers. There’s cut marks on your hands as well.

“I-I wuh-wuh-was ju-just hung-hungry,” you stammered.

It doesn’t take a genius to piece enough together to understand this motive. “Have you run away?” I ask.

You looked at me, eyes wide and mouth pressed firmly together. You looked near tears but would dare not release a single moist drop. You nod. “Ye-yes.”