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.

Footprints in the Sand

These past few days have been the most quiet days since I arrived in Skyrim. All the bloodshed, the politicking, the dragons... all those seem distant memories for now. Everything is quiet. Everything is--seems, rather--all right in the world. 

Delphine urged us to meet her in Riverwood to find out what she found out. We could have traveled with her the rest of the way, but she spurred her horse ahead of us. All the better, I guess. Kiya and I needed the time alone together before we face even greater challenges than the Civil War. 

I was quiet as we made our way to Windhelm. We drank our potions before we made our way past the city and into the river, and followed its icy path. We endured the cold as we swam across to reach the College of Winterhold, and us being their students once, we spent the night drying our armor and weapons up, as well as sharing the warmth we missed during those months spent apart. We might as well not have stopped in the journey, as we were exhausted as the moment we stepped on the College earlier.

By dawn, our feet were already treading the thick snow from the fall last night. Kiya led the way, and she seemed eager to be in this area. She wanted to show me something, I guessed. She took my hand and started running. I thought about the time when my werewolf form caught up to her--that might be the only time that I'll be as quick as she is. Fortunately, she held her pace so I can keep up, and the Frostflow lighthouse came into view. "It's cold," she said, smiling, "We should go inside." And so we did.

For an abandoned lighthouse, Frostflow was clean and well-maintained. I looked around it as if  it was the first time I saw a civilized home. I gave Kiya a puzzled look, and she looked at me, still smiling. She was the one who takes care of everything here from time to time, she explained. A Redguard family was killed by Chaurus and Falmer, she said, and only the woman's body was not dragged down to the abyss below. She said it reminded her of me, that she did not want such a fate. I kissed her before tears fell from her eyes, and we laid down on the bedroll she had prepared.

Who's who?

It was early morning when Kiya urged me to get up and move. It was the first time I smelled burnt ground and flesh from afar, and Kiya did not seem to notice. We moved, however, closer to the source of the smell, and it was then I realized that she had led me to a grave of some sort. A burnt body knelt at the middle of the ground near the shore, and a few books were scattered. Kiya moved around the place with familiarity, and I sensed that she has been here before. A single body with a lot of books that all burned with such force... could it be Yisra? Kiya read my thoughts. "Yes, this is Yisra, my love. We should pay our respects, for she made it possible for us to be together again. I have only seen this site from the Lighthouse, and now is the perfect time to put her to rest properly." I dug on the ground near the shore so that water will be close to her body. It might mean something in the afterlife, but I would not know. We said a few prayers to the gods, and moved on.

She should have tried her spell on the water.

As we traveled along the coastline, I could feel Kiya's eyes were on me. We've been feeling especially fond of each other this journey back to Riverwood. I decided I was going to lead the way this time, towards my home in Windstad. "We're going to Windstad, Kiya," I said, as we walked. "Your daughter's there. She'll be happy to see you again." She was quiet. She pulled my hand towards the right, and started running. We came upon a tent, and she urged me in. "I want to thank you, Kousei, for doing everything," she said. She kissed me torridly, and I kissed her back.

"It's cold out, we should head back inside."

It was already afternoon when we emerged from the tent. We had to run now, before darkness falls. It was dangerously close to a full moon, too, so we had to find safety in Windstad. 

We avoided Dawnstar altogether, because we had no time to drink our potions and hide ourselves in public. Instead, we swam across the bay to get to the swampy area of Windstad. There, we found Lucia all by herself outside, thinking deeply. Her eyes looked up, and saw Kiya. "MAMA!" she screamed, and came running towards Kiya. She hugged her mommy even if she got wet doing so. Kiya's eyes filled to the brim with tears. She looked at me as droplets hugged the contour of her beautiful face, and whispered a thank you. I nodded, and proceeded to walk inside the mansion to let them share that moment together.

The mother and daughter, reunited.

She might have seen me in the swamp.

And here I am now, thinking to myself atop the Windstad mansion. Days have been quiet, almost as if to say these are the last. The calm before the storm. We should be enjoying what we have here and now. When Delphine tells us what she knows soon, Kiya and I will be certain we will be in the middle of it, and we will look back to these quiet days to remind us of what we aim for in the battle against the dragons.

The Phantom Hunt in the Skies

My dearest Snow Wolf,

I couldn't help but chuckle a little when I read your last letter. To be honest, I already had a hunch about your little furry secret even before the Civil War ended, but I never thought I could confirm it. Thank you for telling me though, and if anything, it has made me love you more. I promise I'll keep it a secret, and I'll help you maintain your cover to the best of my abilities. I would no longer be surprised if we couldn't share the same covers when the moon is full. I would still love to glimpse your other form though, even if only from a distance.

Anyhow, I'm still in a bit of a shock regarding what just happened in Kynesgrove. I already noticed things were eerily quiet as we neared the little settlement, but the silence was broken by the unmistakable sound of a dragon roar in the distance. Delphine was already waiting for us at the entrance of Kynesgrove, and one of the residents was with her. Iddra was visibly panicking; it was a miracle she got to describe what was happening.

What were YOU doing near that dragon mound in the first place?

We sprinted as fast as we could to the old dragon mound. I felt my heart skip a few beats when I saw the dark form hovering about it. It was him, that same dov who attacked Helgen, and indirectly (and ironically) spared us from a certain death.

You sure know how to pick a dramatic setting, my pretty.

In hindsight, it's certainly queer that we didn't draw our weapons the instant we saw Alduin -- we now know that's the dark dragon's name, thanks to the direct verification of his underling. I don't know if you agree with me, but there's something about him that commands authority like no other race of Tamriel can. We were confused as to what he's doing at that moss-covered mound, until he spoke and summoned the mound's inhabitant from its death slumber. I had to blink several times just to make sure my eyes were not deceiving me. Sahloknir, that Ancient Dragon, had truly risen from the grave.

It's a Franken-dragon!

Our knowledge of the dragon language is still shaky at its best, but thanks to our combined efforts, we were able to piece together what Sahloknir and his overlord were probably saying. They did not seem to be mindful of our presence, until Alduin turned and looked at me directly with his blood-red eyes. Dovahkiin -- your voice shines not from Dragonkind, but from yourself. His words still echo in my mind even now. Does he recognize that I also carry his wings, even though they're hidden at the time due to the potion?

Unkilling ancient powers of kings.

Uh, hi? I know you're talking to me now.

I do not know, but I wanna learn!

But it would be foolish to think that he'd let us off the hook so easily, because he promptly ordered Sahloknir to dispose of us while he took his leave. You shouted at me to go after Alduin while you, Delphine, and your summons (I really commend your Conjuration abilities, Kousei) distracted Sahloknir, but he proved to be an especially tough foe to handle. Despite the years he spent as a skeleton underground, he apparently retained much of the might he had during his first life. He blocked my path whenever I tried to get away and chase his master. I soon realized I couldn't catch up to Alduin at that point, and so I began to fight him for real.

Spending centuries buried six feet under has not improved his mood.

I had not used the Thu'um in a very long time, but the first words that left my lips in that spur of the moment were the syllables of Durnehviir's name. I gave a hasty apology for summoning him at a less-than-peaceful situation, but he simply thanked me for the mere act of summoning before chasing Sahloknir back to the skies. Dragon against Dragon against Dragonborn... it's been a while since I had a good battle, and all the College's teachings seem to be paying off in the fight.

The used-to-be-dead (or soon-to-be-dead-again) and the undead.

Team effort.

It took the combined efforts of my magic, Durnehviir's Thu'um, Delphine's attacks, your blade, and your conjured creatures to take Sahloknir down. Nonetheless, I drew a katana at the last minute and dealt the deathblow myself. Please don't tell it to anyone, my love, and don't think too badly of me for saying this... but I actually felt a heaviness in my chest as I struck Sahloknir down. I met his eyes before the life went out of them once more, and I saw a soul -- a same soul as ours, a soul I later absorbed. I reckon anyone in his right mind who trapped a sentient's soul in a Black Soul Gem would feel the same thing. I really don't know how I can continue doing this, but for the sake of Tamriel, I will keep these sentiments hidden.

You're seriously asking for a smack on the head.

Delphine, seeing how I absorbed Sahloknir's soul, addressed me directly. She was still queerly cold to you, but she became considerably more amiable where I was concerned. We wanted answers, and I obtained them from her. Apparently, she was a member of a group who called themselves the Blades, who protected the line of Septim Emperors and the Dragonborn before the Thalmor hunted them down to obscurity.

Gone with the Septims.

Love, are you really convinced by Delphine's hunch that the Thalmor are behind the return of dragons? While her argument has some merit, I am taking it with a grain of salt. Sure, the chaos in Skyrim and Tamriel brought about by the dragons' return could benefit only the Thalmor, but I can't help but think Delphine's bitterness towards the Justiciars are narrowing her mind a little. Don't get me wrong, Kousei. Despite my association with those whom you call your enemy, I dislike the Thalmor as much as anyone else. If there's anything that binds Ulfric Stormcloak and General Tullius together, it's their hatred of the Thalmor. But back to the story, I am not convinced that the High Elves are behind this. We've been around dragons long enough to glimpse a bit into their nature, and what we know is that they care little for petty Thalmor bribes.

Relying on your gut to think instead of your mind can only take you so far.

Delphine was soon talking about infiltrating the Thalmor Embassy of Skyrim, but thankfully she wasn't one to simply jump into such an endeavor without a laid-out plan first. She requested us to give her some time to think, and I was more than happy to give it to her. I'm glad we're rid of her for now. But you really made my mood brighten when you asked me if I wanted to see Lucia again. It's quite a way to Windstad, and it may be a challenge to sneak me incognito into your home, but it's a risk I have to take. I've missed my daughter. And perhaps, even though it will take some time before we are bound together in Mara's eyes, I can convince her to treat you like the father she deserves to have.

Love,

Yisra

The Man Who Cried Wolf

Dear Yisra,

The moment I saw you again in Riverwood made me realize that I cannot risk losing you again. I am writing this letter to tell you the one thing I have kept from you all this time, for your sake and ours. It is time for us to be honest to each other, because what lies ahead of us might cost us our lives, and I will not be able to bear the guilt if I had not told you.

Your wings did not surprise me. By the time the Greybeards had told me there was another Dragonborn, I could not help but think it is possibly you. I did not want to think that, however, for that would mean your life is in danger even more than it was before. We did not even have to talk about it since meeting once again, for it was fairly obvious that we were the only ones with wings. I am afraid for you, however. I know you might be feeling the same way because our task is extremely dangerous, but we can only hope that the Stormcloaks get out of our way until we finish dealing with the dragons. 

You deserve to know what I had been up to since I left Solitude burning. I had joined the Companions, a group of mercenaries fighting for money. I became one of them, and they treated me as brothers. You know this very well, if you have read my past letters. I left out one thing, however: they are more than brothers to me. They invited me to join them, be their blood-kin. To be a Werewolf.

Some things must be going through your mind right now. It makes sense now that once, you thought you were hidden really well and I could still detect you, yes? That even with your shadow-like armor, I could still follow you at night without tripping on rocks or hitting trees. That you had to change your scent to hide from me when I was in Riften. I knew that scent was familiar, but I do not know what it was. I did not think it was possible to change someone's scent. You outsmarted me.

Apart from that, I can call on ethereal werewolves to fight by my side, but they neither cast destruction nor healed me. I always welcome their company in a battle, though.

I keep trying, but it seems they can't talk.

 I wish you'd be able to ask me to transform into a werewolf, turn around, and wait for me to do so, but I will decline such request. Whenever I'm in my feral state, I lose all inhibitions. I attack anybody and anyone, looking to eat their meat for my own gains. I run where no one is around when the moon is high and bright before I transform. You might have even heard of my howls. It is not a pretty sight. Thus, I will only be showing you illuminations I took when I transformed once at will, in broad daylight. I hope you won't be disappointed.

"Heyyyy, baby, don't be mad."

It is quite painful to transform from a human being to a ferocious werewolf. My equipment and bags fall off, making them available for thieves to take for free. The skin on my arms rip from my fingertips to the shoulders and are replaced with fur from underneath. I could feel my head elongate, my nose turning to a snout along with my mouth, and my teeth turn to fangs. You can just look at the illumination I took, just in case you're curious.

Disgusting.

Where did all that equipment go?

I do hope that this revelation would not bring us apart again, only closer. We are both wild animals at heart, and I can feel it whenever we're together. You know I love you always, my dearest nightingale.

Love Lost and Found

My beloved Kousei,

It feels surreal to be writing to you again, but it fills me with happiness to finally get to do so once more. I admit I have been trailing you for some time, and it was by some stroke of luck (or fate, perhaps) that your travels brought you to Riverwood, where we first met.

Oh, how the trees have grown.

I had already stopped trying to hide my scent from you, but apparently it would take some time before the mixture is thoroughly purged from my systems. I dropped an Ancient Nord Sword on the roadside, just like I did before. But you did not seem to get the hint, because you charged at me with your weapon drawn. Although I hated it, I had to resort to my most powerful fire spell to push you back. And just our luck, the effects of my wing-suppressant potion were wearing off at the time. I removed my hood and mask to show you who I really was.

You can go no further!

You were too shocked to get up, so I had to help you back on your feet. You had not spoken all this time, but you finally whispered my name. I can discern the confusion and questions written in your eyes. However, one thing shone out clearly. It was the look of love I'd have given the whole of Tamriel to see again.

I missed you too.

I pulled you to the small camp I've set up in the woods. Serana helped me with it before she finally agreed to part ways with me. She would not stand between us, she said. She never doubted that you would protect me to the best of your abilities, and I can affirm to it now.

In the shadows of the trees, we reacquainted ourselves with the map of our bodies, and the pleasure that came with it. Wrapped in nothing but our wings and shared warmth, we talked for a long time. You wanted to hear the whole story of what I've been doing all this time, and I was happy to oblige you. The color change in my eyes, my brief sanctuary among my fellow Nightingales, my transformation to my current identity... there was much to say. When you asked me why I changed my mind about running from you, I simply said that I make mistakes as well. I remarked that I was wrong to think that you wanted me dead, to which you answered by pulling me even closer.

"Ulfric Stormcloak will never have your head while I still draw breath," you whispered with an intensity I've never encountered before. I looked at you, and saw how much you've changed. My heart broke a little, because I knew I also played a part in your pain. I was already a master healer by the College's standards, but even I do not possess a spell to instantly heal such hurts. I was just relieved you've kept your heart open to me.

What else have you been keeping here?

As we were getting dressed, you asked to see the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller before we deliver it the Greybeards. I frowned in confusion, and expressed that I do not have any such horn in my possession.

"Didn't you leave a note in Ustengrav to meet me in Riverwood's only inn?" you said, equally perplexed. "I assumed you already had the horn."

I asked to be shown the note, and you gave me a book. As I recall, you kept the note tucked inside to keep it from getting crumpled. I read it several times, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not remember having written it down, or even going to Ustengrav to plant it. The realization that the note was sent by someone else drove us to go to Riverwood and find out the truth. But not before I drank another dose of Master Tolfdir's concoction to hide my wings. I offered you a swig, but you declined.

"You need it far more than I do, love," you whispered, smiling a little.

We'll make ourselves at home, all right.

The innkeeper, Delphine, was at the Alchemy table when we got to the Sleeping Giant. I knew something was off when she informed us that they had no attic room, and instead instructed us to go to one of the unoccupied guest quarters. Having no choice, we entered the room and resolved to come up with our next plan of action. However, we'd barely settled down when Delphine opened the door (without even knocking -- thank the Divines we still had our armor on) and muttered about finally meeting the Dragonborn. And lo and behold, in her hands was the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller! My eyes narrowed a little at how she glared at you when you retrieved the horn. Why the look of disgust, I wonder? But I kept silent; Delphine wants to talk to us somewhere more private.

I'll hear you out or take you out.

She took us to the hidden basement of the Sleeping Giant Inn. She told us about how she's secretly part of a certain group that reveres the Dragonborn as the ultimate dragonslayer, and how they've been hoping to recruit the current one (ones, as she's come to learn) to uncover the truth behind the dragons' return. Although I'm as interested to know the truth behind the dov's recent activities, the fact that she called us "dragonslayer" left a rather sour taste in my mouth. Furthermore, Delphine's subtle jabs against the Greybeards made me like her less and less every minute. When she told us to accompany her to Kynesgrove and destroy a dragon to prove our Dragonborn abilities, I told her that we'd get to that when we're ready.

When she was out of earshot, you asked me quietly why I refused to go with Delphine at once. Yes, my Kousei, I know as well as you that we could handle a dragon together any time. But if there's one thing that hadn't changed, it's my unease with the cold-hearted battles against the creatures that have the same soul as ours.

Wisely does not include Shouting the previous High King to pieces, no?

At my insistence, we ascended back to the Greybeards' monastery in the Throat of the World so we can return the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Arngeir was delighted to see the artifact, and even more when he realized it was retrieved by the joint effort of the two Dragonborn. He called the rest of his brothers to the hall and made us stand in the center. As a reward, we were allowed to learn the final Word of Unrelenting Force. While I was grateful, I know you'd be able to make use of it more than me. To a degree, I still do not use the Thu'um unless I really have to.

But you've been greeting us all this time!

After we were imparted with the Word, the Greybeards officially recognized us as Dovahkiin. The ground shook as we received their greeting. I toppled down several times, but was otherwise unhurt. You helped steady me when it was over, and Arngeir allowed us to go to the courtyard and take a fresh breath. Nothing like the pure mountain air in refreshing the senses.

No post-Dovahkiin greeting party?

We walked together a short way from the monastery. The sun was already setting, and we had to don our fur-lined hoods to guard against the cold. But the view was too beautiful to miss. Furthermore, we were together to share the sight. Imagine my surprise when you suddenly reached into your travel pack and retrieved an Amulet of Mara. You've been waiting for this moment, you said. It made me bleed inside to decline your offer, but I could not marry you under a false identity. I would not allow history to write down that you married a person who's not the love of your life.

Now we just need some wine to cap it all off.

I can feel your trembling rage as I voiced my reasons. You refused to look at me for a while, but eventually, you took my hand and kissed it. As you pressed my fingers against your cheek, I can see that you were smiling again.

"You know you're the only one I'd wed," you said, your resolve returned. "I will do anything to let you walk Skyrim again without having to hide. I vow this in the name of Talos."

I rested my head on your shoulder after we kissed in the fading light. I do not know yet how we'll achieve what we really want together, but we will. We have found each other again, and I will fight to save our bond if that's the last thing I have to do.

Yours now and always,

Yisra