The Hunter and the Hunted

 I am now able to sleep soundly now that the blood of the beast has been thoroughly purged from me. However, I admit that my temporary werewolf senses were quite a boon during the quest. Tracking the White Stag, for one, became child's play thanks to our combined scent-tracking instincts. In Kousei's eyes, that was our first true hunt together.

When I set eyes on the Stag, I was struck by how... harmless it looked. I found it easy to shoot down ordinary elks and deer without much hesitation, preferring to give the animals a swift death rather than play with them before they died. But there's something about that pale creature that made me hesitate to draw my weapons, even if it meant having the cursed ring removed from my grasp forever.

The Stag has a "Kill Me" sign. How convenient!

Kousei, however, encouraged me to stop romanticizing the animal, and to slay it so we can get the task over with. I inwardly sighed, but I drew my bow and carefully shot an arrow at it. I had aimed straight at the beast's head to assure a quick kill, but as a testament to its otherworldy nature, it managed to survive the hit and instead galloped away. My love and I took to chasing it higher up the mountains, resolving to hunt it down even as the weather gave way to snow. Finally, we cornered the Stag against some rocks, and I quickly drove one of my swords into its heart when I got the chance.

Perfect. I've set my sights on venison stew tonight.

No sooner was this done when an ephemeral stag appeared on the spot where I killed the beast. Its ghostly eyes pierced through me with a hunter's gaze -- quite unlike the docile deer that was its visage. Then, it spoke. Or rather, Hircine himself addressed me.

I wonder what else you've seen through those elk eyes of yours.

The Daedric Lord of the Hunt commended my efforts for hunting down his Stag, offhandedly remarking that his wolf had his senses set in the right place when he chose such a fine mate. It took me a while to understand that Hircine was referring to Kousei. Of course, how could I have forgotten that Kousei was as devoted to Hircine as I was to Nocturnal? Nonetheless, I went straight to the point and asked the Father of Manbeasts if he will remove the curse on the ring. Hircine gave a little chuckle, and in the typical manner of a cunning Daedric Lord, told me he might consider it if I seek out Sinding and skin him. Even though I was quick to say no to that demand, Hircine replied in a bored fashion that he had plenty of others to carry out the task even if I won't.

"There is no retribution in the hunt," Hircine told me when I inquired about the purpose of the kill. "It is not vengeance I seek, but the blood course of the living hunt."

In a way, I understood this. He hunts for the sake of hunting, the way Nocturnal is mysterious for the sake of being mysterious.

Hircine offering Essential Hunting Skills 101.

Hircine disappeared after reiterating his terms, leaving us with only the lifeless corpse of the White Stag. I sighed and began to grimly disembowel the carcass, wondering if it will yield anything of use. It was nothing but an ordinary deer on the inside, although I did retrieve an odd-looking root that looked eerily like the canis variant. When I showed it to Kousei, he frowned and told me to never even taste it. If he wasn't mistaken, it was a rare ingredient that could only be found in an island of his native Hammerfell. He had only seen it in alchemy books, but if the Jarrin Root was anything like it was described in texts, it would kill me if I took a tiniest bite out of it. I stared at the deadly root, realizing that it was part of Hircine's dark humor. If I couldn't live with being a werewolf at random, I could always just kill myself. Such was the will of the Daedric Lord of the Hunt.

A particularly jarring root.

Snow was still falling when we set out for Bloated Man's Grotto, where Hircine told us Sinding was hiding. It wasn't the best of conditions to go travelling in, but I knew I couldn't run away from this no matter how hard I tried. Kousei and I were silent as we trekked up the mountain bordering Lake Ilinalta, but I knew he recognized my inner turmoil. He held my hand several times during the journey, giving a gentle squeeze as he did so. I gave him a slight smile in return. I needed whatever reassurance he could give.

Let the hunting games begin.

The skies inside of Bloated Man's Grotto were remarkably clear. Everything was bathed in a shade of red, all thanks to the red moon -- Hircine's Bloodmoon, I later learned -- hovering high above the pines. True to what Hircine said, there were already several hunters who have set up camp inside. They have not yet killed Sinding, however. Kousei and I had to get to him first.

That's one big bloody moon.

As we were traversing the Grotto's winding paths (and killing several hostile bears in the process), I heard Kousei call my name softly. I stopped from where I was in the middle of crossing a stream to turn to him. He then said that Sinding was nearby, and reluctantly asked me what I intended to do. I looked him in the eye -- those amber eyes of a werewolf -- and saw that he was as torn as I. He felt sympathy for Sinding, but neither was he willing to let me continue suffer the random transformations.

"You know Hircine better than I do, beloved," I said. "Would you think it wise to do as he asks?"

Kousei pondered on this for a moment before replying, "I really do not know, my dear Nightingale. He cares for little but the actual thrill of the hunt. But whatever you choose, you know I am with you."

Say, we show Hircine what 'wild' really means, handsome?

Sinding in his werewolf form lurked nearby. He recognized Kousei, and was confused for a moment when he saw me approach. Then, he saw the ring on my finger, and he knew. With a look of resignation, he told us that he wouldn't hold it against us if we chose to follow Hircine's commands. Kousei wasn't exaggerating when he told me of Sinding's remorse, then. In that spur of the moment, I declared that I would spare his life. My love is a werewolf, and I've tasted how it felt to bear the beast blood. And I felt it right then and there -- not the preludes of another random werewolf transformation, but the innate urge to hunt.

You can talk while in werewolf form!

Hunted becomes the hunter.

Suffice to say, I quite lost much of my inhibitions in battle that night. My claws were my twin blades, and my teeth my spells. As I look at the illuminations Kousei took of me during my vicious rampage, I find it hard to believe the person decapitating the heads of the hunters -- now the hunted -- was me. This was another true hunt. And eerily, the vicious dragon side of my soul rejoiced. Be the hunter. Be the dragon, if not the wolf.

Off with your head!

Barbecuing the kill on the spot.

We met with Sinding again once all the hunters were dead. He gave us his thanks, telling us that we'll always be welcome in this place, which he's now made his home. The cursed ring was still on my finger, but I felt no regret. I knew I did what my instincts told me to do, and not what Hircine commanded.

How many werewolves are in this illumination?

The old familiar aspect of Hircine greeted us when we stepped out of the Grotto. Oddly enough, I did not feel afraid when I saw the ghostly stag. I coldly whispered that I did not kill Sinding as he wished. Contrary to our expectations, Hircine lauded me for providing such a satisfying display of a ferocious hunter. Finally freed of the curse, the silver wolf-ring loosened its grip on my finger. Prior to disappearing, Hircine lamented that it's such a waste I would prefer to be a little bird in the shadows instead of a fearsome wolf. He told me to keep the ring, saying that it might come useful should a snow-white werewolf convince me to join their ranks.

"Oh, I know of your existing contract with the Empress of Murk in this world and beyond," Hircine said, apparently reading my thoughts. "But I'm pretty sure I can convince Nocturnal to lend you to me every once in a while, my shadow wolf."

I had to give a little snort once Hircine was gone. It was well and good that it's over. The recent events have been tiring, and I would prefer to take a good long sleep in the arms of my beloved rather than ponder such questions for now. With luck, Lady Nocturnal will grant me dreamless slumber to calm my mind once more.

Woah woah Hircine, that nose is getting waaaay too close.

A Taste of Beast Blood

Kousei and I had chosen to spend the remainder of our time in my Falkreath property while we wait for Delphine to show up in Riverwood. It's a miracle Lakeview Manor was still unspoiled, and loyal Rayya continued to serve me despite my status as a fugitive. Thank the Divines the Stormcloaks hadn't considered searching for me here.

Checking out the property.

Nonetheless, a day or two after settling in my home, a Daedric Lord came knocking on our door in a most unexpected manner. My love had gone to the Falkreath city area to buy some bread as well as some meat, for no game animal had wandered into the Manor's vicinity lately. I didn't immediately notice anything unusual when he returned. I took the packages from him and was arranging them on the hearth when he suddenly ran for the door. Alarmed, I ran after him. But barely had I closed the door behind me when he motioned for me to stay back. And before the question formed on my lips, I beheld Kousei's transformation into a snow-white werewolf before my horrified eyes.

Run, Forrest, ruuuuun!

His wolf instincts temporarily took over, and he lunged at me. I instinctively parried the blow with my bow, although the force knocked me to the ground. At that moment, the snow wolf that was my beloved seemed to regain a little of his senses. Regret and dismay were plain in his amber eyes when he backed off and ran past me to Talos-knows-where. I quickly gathered the equipment he left behind, donned my cloak and hood, then ran off after him. I don't know how long I chased him. All I knew was that we were both exhausted by the time I covered him in blankets later that night.

Or tenth summer. Depends how you see it, really.

Kousei managed to explain matters to me when the effects of his transformation wore off. He patiently answered my questions. How was it that he uncontrollably turned into a werewolf when the full moon was still a few weeks away? Apparently, Kousei didn't just obtain bread and meat from Falkreath -- there was also a ring cursed by the Daedric Prince of the Hunt, Hircine.

Who, what told you?

He told me about a man named Sinding, who was recently imprisoned in the Falkreath Jail for savagely murdering a local farmer's young daughter. Kousei emphasized that there was more to Sinding than what the people thought of him, and that his admittance of the crime doesn't mean he wasn't regretful of it. As he was speaking, I noticed that he was twisting a ring on his finger. I didn't think I have seen it before -- plain silver, with a wolf head on it. The sight of it made me narrow my eyes in suspicion.

What if he skins us instead for killing his favorite beast?

"Sinding was unable to control himself," Kousei explained, still twisting the ring. I couldn't take it anymore. I gently got a hold of his hand and attempted to get the wretched thing off, but it refused to budge an inch.

Unable to control himself, I thought. Just like Kousei a while ago.

"This Sinding was a werewolf too, wasn't he?" I remarked wearily, after a few fruitless minutes of trying to wrench it off my love. "And he gave you this ring that carried his curse."

The perks of being a werewolf.

Kousei confirmed my suspicions. He then explained that the ring was the fabled Ring of Hircine, an artifact that could grant a werewolf unlimited transformations. However, Sinding had displeased the Lord of the Hunt by stealing the ring, and as such the artifact's enchantment became uncontrollable. It could not be removed unless another person willingly chose to bear its burden, and only by killing a legendary beast can we hope to beg Hircine for forgiveness.

I hate to admit it, but that looks quite pretty.

Neither of us were able to sleep well that night, due to fretting over the cursed ring. Kousei was afraid that he would suddenly transform and hurt me while at it, and I was constantly bothered by the Daedric artifact in our midst. I admit I do consort with Daedra, even maintaining a degree of rapport with Nocturnal, Azura, Sheogorath, and Sanguine. However, a part of me isn't quite at ease with the Lord of Werewolves, despite Kousei being one. We were taking a little walk in the nearby woods the next morning when I came upon a decision. I told Kousei I would take the ring.

Deliberating to give a ring and pop a question?

Kousei looked at me incredulously, and gave me a flat "No" at once. He wouldn't consider putting me into such danger, he said. We could track down the beast Sinding was talking about and things would be resolved without me having to ever put on the cursed ring. However, I touched his hand and calmly, steadily explained that I needed to understand. Besides, being a werewolf already, he wouldn't have to worry about contracting lycanthropy should I transform. It wouldn't be the same if he kept the ring. We argued for about half an hour before he gave in to my insistence. Kousei reluctantly told me to hold out my hand. The ring slipped easily from his finger and on to my extended palm, before it quickly went and displaced the current ring I had on.

My, my. Aren't you adorable?

We were discussing our plans to go after the stag when a dragon's shadow darkened the sun. Kousei and I drew our weapons as the dragon came into view. It was a Wyvern, an unusual dragon we have never seen before. It looked like a green-scaled version of Voslaarum and Naaslaarum of the Forgotten Vale, but we can tell it was in ways more deadly. It was spitting a sickly green substance that smelled strongly of acid. Kousei and I were already considered masters in our respective weapons of choice, but our blows seemed to only dent the beast's hide. The dragons were indeed getting stronger.

I'm a Werewolf. But I'm also a Nightingale. Has your mind exploded yet?

It was a long and harrowing battle, but victory was near. I only had to shoot one more arrow, and it would be over. At that moment, I felt my body changing. The bow and arrow fell from my grasp when the skin of my fingers split into dark-furred claws. I wanted to cry out in pain as my body gave forth grotesque convulsions, but it was a howl that left my now-elongated maw. Kousei swiftly put himself between my newly-transformed self and the Wyvern, and one well-aimed strike at the dragon turned it into bones once more.

I didn't know why I had to run from Kousei. All I was aware of was this hunger for blood gnawing at my insides, and at the same time, a desperate urge to resist it. My newly-sprouted fangs, hungry for some flesh to latch on to, nearly broke themselves as I bit on logs and rock instead in an attempt to curb the bloodlust. I must have looked quite pitiful as I curled up, whimpering, near a waterfall as I waited for the effects to fade. My senses had become unbearably acute. I wanted to keep out the eerily amplified sound of fish splashing down the stream, the cries of deer being slaughtered by a bear in the distance, and the rustling of trees in the wind. I stuck my nose on the damp earth to deaden the onslaught of scents, and the complex blend of moss, loam, and waterlogged pine needles calmed me a little. But it was not enough. This was not me. I was a beast, one that most citizens fear.

I snarled when I felt something quietly nudge me, but the hairs fell back down when I saw it was the snout of a pale wolf. Kousei gently nuzzled my face and licked me where my cheek would have been. I was quick to press my own body against his. He was still holding me when I awoke a few hours later, fully human again. It's not easy wearing the ring, but I do not regret that decision. Now, if we could only find Hircine's beast, everything would be all right again.