Tarrick

“How does the day greet you, Redguard?" Buffy said as Tarrick arrived. "We were just trying to tease Ylenno about his hair.”

Before Tarrick could reply, Ylenno gave an account of how his hair was maintained. It was a long, complex, impressive process, and he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sheer over-wrought nature of it all. Once Ylenno had finished reciting his routine, he nodded in slight amazement.

"Sounds like a bit too much effort to me," he said, running his head over the fine fuzz of black hair that covered his scalp. "I'd rather keep it short like this so it's easy to manage. But whatever works for you, I suppose."

Kayla nodded at Tarrick's statement about easy-to-manage hair.

"The shorter your hair, the less likely anything nasty can grab it," she said. "I was exploring a ruin with a young lady who had beautiful long raven hair. She was very vain about it, and spent as much time on it as Ylenno does with his hair." She smirked at Ylenno before continuing. "Her hair was to her waist, and it got caught between the bony fingers of a half-starved vampire. Nearly pulled her scalp off trying to get away." She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "Keep it short and simple," She finished. She grinned at Tarrick.

Buffy:

Buffy was about to share the recipe she and Ardaline used for hair conditioner, or at least mention the benefits Ylenno could get from sprinkling glow dust in his hair but was glad she stopped herself as Kayla began to speak.

The wood elf with a shining blond mane couldn’t help the warm flush that she felt creeping above the neckline of her blouse as Kayla recounted the vices of fighting with long silken locks. Kayla’s auburn hair was pretty, but not what Buffy would call pampered. She figured the high elf probably didn’t carry shampoo and conditioner in her pack. Buffy most certainly had plenty for both of them but decided this was perhaps not the best time to offer that information.

“Keep it short and simple,” concluded the Altmer.

Buffy awkwardly studied the toes of her buckskin boots. It occurred that her brother Bosmer might feel a bit convicted by Kayla’s words as well. She looked up and chirped, “But think of the damage Ylenno could do with those spikes by lowering his head and charging like a minotaur!”

The image of Ylenno's spiked head running full-speed towards an overly-muscular minatour made Kayla cover her mouth in laughter. She turned to say something to Buffy to tease Ylenno, and for the first time realized how long Buffy's hair actually was. Her face turned red, but she kept the smile on her face.

"As long as we can use your hair as a whip, Buffy!"

Buffy:

"As long as we can use your hair as a whip, Buffy!" Kayla was joking, but on her slightly reddened face was etched a look of. . . apology? Buffy realized how transparent her own awkwardness must have appeared. The smile of understanding between them said much that probably went unnoticed by others.

Buffy brought a small bowstring-callused finger up to her lips. “Sshhh! The Adventurers Guild will reject the lot of us! I’m sure they’re looking for intrepid explorers, not skilled hair stylists.” Knowing the whole hair discussion had been her doing, she slipped the leafy living recurve bow from her back and pretended to carefully inspect it.

Ylenno gave a shrug to all of them as he said, "whatever floats your boats. But I assure you, I am the progenitor of a new age of hairstyles! Oh yes, I kid you not! Ten years from now, people would call me a new god as they gush each other about their own styles! Kids would love it!"

Then he gave all of them a scandalous giggle as.

"Besides, girls who I met love it. They call it the Bush Tickler amongst other spiky sobriquets, no joke! Hee-hee-hee-haw!"

He then looked at the Buffy, and the glint of giddy mischievousness at his eyes remained, this time much more intense.

"Oh, don't worry about that, sister. It woudln't be the first time I stuck my hair into places I really shouldn't!"

The tall bosmer gave a sharp series of barking laughter at his own joke, braying like a hyena for all intents and purposes.

Buffy:

Ylenno enlightened the group about the dual nature of his hairstyle – which he called a Bush Tickler. When not being used for fighting, he stated it could be used for fun. Did the Bosmer really try to use his hair like that? It would seem more likely that Argonians might use their head spikes in such a manner. Maybe. Guildmagister Kud-Ei had never mentioned it though.

She continued to allow the inspection of her bow to be the apparent focus of her hands and eyes as she pondered his words. The little wood elf didn’t exactly have a bush. In fact she had very little body hair – not unusual for her race. Her guild sisters teased her that her soft patch of nether down was barely enough to verify she was a natural blonde.

Finally Ylenno’s laughter subsided enough for Buffy to remark as she looked coyly up at the taller Bosmer, “Do you intend to tickle or stab our foes with your popular spikes?”

"They call it the Bush Tickler amongst other spiky sobriquets, no joke!" quipped Ylenno.

Kayla's eyebrows nearly shot off her face, but the real kicker for her was when Ylenno looked at Buffy and continued on with, "Oh, don't worry about that, sister. It woudln't be the first time I stuck my hair into places I really shouldn't!"

Her own laughter was noiseless, rather than loud and braying like Ylenno's. She brought her hand to her mouth and bent over and made small squeaking noises occasionally. She laughed so hard, tears filled her eyes and her face turned red.

"Mara's teat, that's disturbing, but funny!" she gasped.

As she stepped out the door of the Peacemaker shop Maxical’s attention was caught by the same group of people that had been inside the Counts Arms last night, all gathered in the street outside the newly built Guild Hall.

The tall Bosmer was speaking and gesturing so animatedly that Maxical slid in, weaving amongst the others to hear what he was talking about. He had one hand jammed into that beautiful white-gold hair, which was now a wild mass of spikes on one side of his head. His hand was glowing green as if a spell was being cast.

As Maxical gaped at the sight, his hair began to rise till it stood straight up, defying gravity! “GAAAAH!”

The Bosmer‘s mischievous eyes were lit with laughter, they danced over the two girls standing in front of him and his voice cracked on a laugh. “Besides, girls who I met love it. They call it the Bush Tickler amongst other spiky sobriquets, no joke! Hee-hee-hee-haw! Oh, don't worry about that, sister. It woudln't be the first time I stuck my hair into places I really shouldn't!" He continued his braying laugh as the two girls glanced at each other.

The one I’m sure was Buffy from Bravil said something I couldn‘t hear, then the pretty Altmer girl spoke before I could move in closer to hear.

I slid to a stop in front of the braying Bosmer. In a smooth flip of my hand I unsheathed the claw on just my middle finger and waved it at him as if swishing a sword.

“If I catch you trying to tickle my bush with that thing, you’ll meet my Khajiit Castrator here. Then the only thing those spikes will be tickling is the pavement.”

I winked up into his laughing eyes and continued on my way to hear the Prophet Azzan had been telling me about.

When the beautiful Khajiit unsheathed her claw and said, “If I catch you trying to tickle my bush with that thing, you’ll meet my Khajiit Castrator here. Then the only thing those spikes will be tickling is the pavement.”

Kayla howled with laughter as the Khajiit with white fur simply walked away, tail swishing, leaving the warning hanging in the air.

"Ylenno," she gasped, "You better keep your hair to yourself, otherwise it might not be the only thing being cut off!"

Drakothemir held his arms behind his back, and cracked a smile at the comedy the others told. He didn't find it funny. The jest suddenly took on sexual hints and Drakothemir knew it was time he'd excuse himself. Not that he was uncomfortable, on the contrary, his own personal desires would make Azura weep. He sighed.

"Well, friends, excuse me but I must relieve myself." Drakothemir said to them. Of course, it wasn't the truth. He did not need to urinate or release any bodily waste. He simply needed to gather his mind on the upcoming expedition, to plan what he will do and what he will need to do in order to get what he is searching for.

The rest of the people . . .they all seemed like a motley crew spawned from a nest of jesters and comedians. He had a difficult time believing most of them were capable of fighting or even surviving in the harsh enviornments. Fort Sutch is a dangerous place already with the criminal scum thriving there, but they pale in comparison with the more dangerous dwellers below. Which could be anything. Dead spirits haunting the forgotten halls. Skeletons. Daedra. Vampires. It didn't matter as they were all threats, and these adventurers would surely lose their lives.

I'll be damned if one of them survived . . .Molag Bal would sooner put me in his charnel houses and keep me as his eternal cellmate.

Drakothemir smiled at his own humor, and simply walked off to explore the guildhall, which was too bright for his own liking.

Westley

Westley moved farther back from the group, not far to the point where he couldn't hear what they were saying, but far enough to try and ignore Ylenno's jokes.

Westley looked down at the strap that tied his scabbard to his waist. It was far too loose. The last thimg he needed was to loose his weapon on this expedition. Westley fiddled with the strap of his scabbard for a moment before a new voice amongst the group caught his ear. When he looked up, he noticed it was the same white Khajiit he had seen at the Count's Arms the previous day. She was waving her middle finger at Ylenno, and one of her claws was unsheathed. He moved a bit closer to hear what she was saying better.

“If I catch you trying to tickle my bush with that thing, you’ll meet my Khajiit Castrator here. Then the only thing those spikes will be tickling is the pavement.”

Kayla started laughing so hard that she nearly fell to the ground. Westley growled and moved back into his corner.

Great. Another reference to one of Ylenno's jokes. He's going to make my breakfast come back up.

Westley kicked a small pebble, and sighed in relief when it hit a nearby lamppost. He was displeased at the loud noise it made when it collided with the metal post though. He retreated further back into the shadows, hoping nobody in the group had heard the noise.

After Kayla wiped the tears from her eyes, she swiped at Westley to clap him on the shoulder. When she swiped air, she looked around and saw both Drakothemir and Westley absent. She snorted. Bunch of old men, she thought. She waved at the rest of the group and sought out Westley.

Drakothemir wasn't the only one who seemed to not find mortal humor humorous. The Lycanthropic child looked like he was annoyed by it, and thus left the company and into a corner. Quite the social pariah . . .and he only shows his true colors twice a month.

Seeing the squeamish pup was amusing enough. His collision with an object upon kicking a pebble was not missed, nor was his growling. The vampire skirted around the edge of a growing group of people, faces unfamiliar to him, to walk toward Westley.

As he did so, he saw from the corner of his eye that the woman, Kayla, had left the presence of her friends. Surely to seek out the missing Lycanthropy. Drakothemir knew he had to interfere just this once. The werewolf knew too much. There had been many times where his vampirism was known to mortals, and they had to be killed to maintain discretion. And that was their only error. That they discovered his vampirism. Drakothemir would rather have his mortal guise last much longer.

He didn't particularly hold any love for Kayla. As far as he was concerned she was just another mortal going about her buisiness, seeking to make friends and allies and foge new relationships while her husband lingers in another province. Quite the trusting man, he must be . . .

The vampire politely shouldered a few people, excusing himself as he made his way toward the werewolf. Try as he might, his scent could not conceal his whereabouts. No matter how hard he tried. Drakothemir already located him the moment he left the group. His eyes never left the wolf's fleeing body.

Kayla could wait. Drakothemir could not. He was immortal, and time was meaningless to him. But when his identity was on the line, known by a man who could not so much as control his own temper . . .then things must be done. For if so much as someone else finds out about his Dark Gift. Then blood will have to be spilled.

He hurried his pace and saw Westley standing in a corner. Alone. Just as he always is. Alone.

"Quite the mysterious fellow, you are, Westley," Drakothemir said as he walked up behind him. He spoke in a low whisper. "Yet the shadows do not favor you."

"In my studies I have learned much. I know that mystery attracts curiosity. The veil that shrouds the unknown tempts many to uncover it. Whether this veil conceals treasure or secrets, it is insignifficant. What is important is that there will always be those seeking to know more and that knowledge has a price. Certain times, however, that price is paid in what flows adrift within us."

With Kayla already possibly searching for Westley, what he said is true. The vampire slid his hands into his pockets and stood tall. "Feast your eyes upon the beauty of such a sight: large numbers of thrill-seekers looking to procure and establish themselves as adventurers in hopes of rising to the pennicacle of glory."

He paused, looking around him to make sure no one was within earshot. To be safe, he still continued to whisper. Speaking plainly for a man such as themselves to understand, but for mortals to comprehend on a different level. "The interesting thing about large numbers is that when one steps aside from the circle, not a soul tends to give it much thought. Yet if the one who prowls corners as a periodic hobby leaves, one must wonder why. For mystery attracts the curious, and the curious are often devoured by their own excessive interests in things they are not meant to understand."

"You may not stand as curious, but you possess forbidden knowledge. Knowledge that I myself have sought to keep secret and have kept secret for as long as I loved. Be wise in the certainty that my currency for revealed secrets is blood."

He shot a look at the various people, and adopted a stance and expression as if he was talking to a life-long friend. "

Westley

When Deakothemir approached him, Westley already knew what the vampire wanted. He sat through Drakothemir's speech, not wanting to be rude and interrupt. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

"Cut the rant Drakothemir, I know what you're demanding, and I'm not afraid of you. Don't worry night-spawn, I won't say anything about what you truly are as long as you keep what I am a secret. I see what you think of me. I know you lack any respect for me. I'm a foolish pup. Irresponsible. I can see why you would think that. You're right. I must learn to control my temper, and be less reckless. It's better for everyone."

Westley walked away from the vampire, and briefly looked over his shoulder. "I'm glad we had this conversation."

Westley headed back towards the group, leaving the vampire standing by himself.

Kayla dodged bumping into Westley by way of his shining armor. She saw Drakothemir behind him, and gave a friendly nod in his direction.

"Heart to heart?" she asked Westley. He seemed a bit irritated, yet Drakothemir seemed in an alright mood. Kayla kept a questioning look on her face.

Westley

Westley nearly bumped into Kayla, but she's aged to dodge a collision.

"Heart to heart?"

Westley sighed. "No. He just stopped to say hi. Didn't really want anything. Seems like a nice enough fellow."

Westley smiled at Kayla, hoping she'd drop the topic. Just in case, he started a different topic.

"So...what's on your mind. Are you done laughing at Ylenno's jokes?"

Kayla shrugged. "Done for now. Did you find that in bad taste?" She grinned down at him and elbowed him good-naturedly. "Or does the thought of Ylenno near a woman's lower bits make you sick too?" she chuckled. "It looks like both you and Drakothemir have the same sense of humor." she winked. "None."

Westley

"Done for now. Did you find that in bad taste? Or does the thought of Ylenno near a woman's lower bits make you sick too? It looks like both you and Drakothemir have the same sense of humor. None."

Westley sniggered "I had breakfast not too long ago. Imaginin' Ylenno use his hair to bed women is an awkward sight to conjure up after I've eaten something. If I had stayed any longer, the contents of my stomach would have spilled all over the floor." Westley gave Kayla a warm smile.

Kayla patted Westley's arm gently.

"Funniest thing," she said casually. "The guards had warned me of a werewolf when I entered the city. I wasn't aware that werewolves would be found so close to cities here." She gave a half-shrug. "In Skyrim, they mostly frolic outside city walls." she knit her brows together. "Frolic is the wrong word. Stalk? Hmm. Closer."

She immediately regretted bringing up werewolves. She shook herself. "No matter," she smiled. "Werewolves or not..." she couldn't finish that sentence, because she wasn't sure how to.

Westley

"Funniest thing, the guards had warned me of a werewolf when I entered the city. I wasn't aware that werewolves would be found so close to cities here. In Skyrim, they mostly frolic outside city walls. Frolic is the wrong word. Stalk? Hmm. Closer. No matter, werewolves or not..."

Westley went pale for a moment, but he was relieved when Kayla seemed not be able to figure out what to say. He continued the topic though.

"Are you afraid of werewolves Kayla?" He put his hand in her shoulder and gave her a serious look.

"Are you afraid of werewolves, Kayla?"

Kayla balked for half a moment, then laughed at Westley.

"Afraid? No! I just..." she sighed. "I had a friend bitten by one. We tried to find a cure, but he turned." She looked away. "Long story sort, I got a nasty scar from him. But don't worry!" she grinned. "I took a cure disease potion. That werewolf was not me, I promise you."

She looked at the sky. "Such wonderful, warm weather," she murmured. "Right about now, my husband would be opening his shop, and I would be out looking for work." Her face showed sadness fleetingly, but she made her mouth smile.

"Do you prefer the cold, or the warm weather?"

Westley

"Afraid? No! I just...I had a friend bitten by one. We tried to find a cure, but he turned. Long story sort, I got a nasty scar from him. But don't worry! I took a cure disease potion. That werewolf was not me, I promise you. Such wonderful, warm weather, Right about now, my husband would be opening his shop, and I would be out looking for work. Do you prefer the cold, or the warm weather?"

Westley caught the glimpse of sadness in Kayla's expression, and was intrigued by her story about her werewolf friend. Westley made sure nobody was in a position to hear him, then he leaned close and whispered into her ear.

"I know it isn't you who's the werewolf. You wouldn't understand how. I'm guessing you don't like werewolves. I'm sorry about your friend." Westley pulled away from her. "I prefer warm weather. The cold makes my mood worse."

Kayla smiled.

"Werewolves are fine. I only knew the one personally." She was silent for a moment, looking at the sky still. Suddenly she looked at Westley with a serious expression.

"Can I ask you for a favor?"

Westley

"Werewolves are fine. I only knew the one personally."

Kayla fell silent for a moment. Westley just stood there awkwardly until she finally broke the silence.

"Can I ask you for a favor?"

"What is it you need Kayla?" Westley watched her carefully, wondering what she could possibly need help with.

She leaned down towards his ear.

"If I don't make it, and you do..." she cleared her throat. "In my left pocket, with my wedding ring, is a note. I would greatly appreciate it if you went to Skyrim and found my husband. Give him the note." Her chest ached, but she kept her face neutral. "In the note, there are instructions on where he lives, what his name is, and what city we live in. We didn't leave on good terms, and if I don't return... I want him to know I cared enough to write him a goodbye letter."

Westley

"If I don't make it, and you do, In my left pocket, with my wedding ring, is a note. I would greatly appreciate it if you went to Skyrim and found my husband. Give him the note. In the note, there are instructions on where he lives, what his name is, and what city we live in. We didn't leave on good terms, and if I don't return... I want him to know I cared enough to write him a goodbye letter."

Westley was silent for a moment. It pained him to think that Kayla had family at home waiting for her return, and it would be devastating to her husband to hear if her death. Westley had nobody waiting for him. No friends, no family, he'd be willing to give his life to ensure Kayla could return home to her family, though he was most likely never coming out of that ruin ever again anyway...

"If I make it I'll do it. I doubt I'll last long though, but if I do survive and you don't, I'll make sure your husband gets the letter." Westley forced a reassuring smile. "If I don't make it and you do, take my blackwater blade. It won't be useful to me if I'm dead, and its quite a good weapon."

Kayla smiled.

"Oh, ja? And what does this 'Blackwater Blade' do?"

She felt relieved that Westley at least said he would do what she asked. Whether or not he carried out the task, whether or not any of them would survive long enough in the fort to do such favors for each other, would remain to be seen. Until danger presented itself, her default attitude would be amiable, friendly, and teasing. If her time came to enter Meridia's Colored Rooms in that fort, instructions were made to others in the city to provide her husband with the money she had left him. In case she died alone. In case there was no one else left to send the message.

Westley

"Oh, ja? And what does this 'Blackwater Blade' do?"

Westley smiled, pulled our his blade, and showed it to Kayla. He would be lying if he didn't say he was proud of it.

"It drains your enemies energy quite a bit. It's quite useful when your opponent isn't running out if energy."

Kayla took a step back. "So... it's like a vampire bade?" She shuddered. "I suppose that would be useful. Does it use the energy to power the sword, or to give you energy and heal you?" Kayla couldn't judge. She had used less-than-fair advantages before.

Westley

"So... it's like a vampire blade? I suppose that would be useful. Does it use the energy to power the sword, or to give you energy and heal you?"

Westley grinned wickedly "It drains your opponents energy, and uses the energy it drained to restore yours. So, yes. It's a vampire blade."

He put the sword back in its sheathe.

Kayla nodded. "H,mm. Okay. Whatever gives you an edge, I suppose." She was suddenly very aware of the weight Dawnbreaker had on her hip. She really had no place to judge.

"How did you get that blade? I don't suppose you enchanted it yourself?"

Westley

"How did you get that blade? I don't suppose you enchanted it yourself?"

Westley's eyes widened with excitement. If there was one thing he loved more than showing off his blade, it was telling the story if how he got it.

"It's a bit of a long story. It all started on a ship-inn in the waterfront District of the Imperial City. I was staying there for the night because I couldn't find the key to my house. This inn was a functioning ship, pretty cool if you ask me. Anyway, this all started with a tale that the owner, Ormil, made up."

Westley swatted at a mosquito trying to bite him before continuing. "I went to bed in the inn. When I woke up, the ship-inn had been cast out to sea. Apparently it had been hijacked by a band if thieves calling themselves 'The Blackwater Brigands'. Long story short, I fought there leader, Selene, and bested her in combat. I decided to take her sword. I had to kill her whole crew to get it."

Kayla's eyes shot up at Westley's story.

"Impressive," she murmured. "I'll bet the guards were pretty upset you stole their thunder," she laughed.

Westley

"Impressive, I'll bet the guards were pretty upset you stole their thunder,"

Westley let out a booming laugh. "The guards in the city are more concerned with catching the Gray Fox than dealing with more important problems."

Kayla tilted her head with confusion. "They Grey Fox? What is that?"

Westley

Westley's eyes widened with shock. "You haven't heard if the Gray Fox?! He's the leader of the thieves guild. The nobleman hate him, but the peasants and beggars love him. Nobody knows what he looks like because he always has a gray cowl on his face. Some say he isn't real, others believe he is just an amazing thief. Those are just rumors though, don't bother with them." Westley crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

Kayla stared at Westley for a moment. "Well, that was, uh, a mouthful of explanation," she laughed. "As long as he stays away from my things, I won't bother him." She mimicked Westley and crossed her arms, grinning.

"Got a girlfriend in the Imperial City? Maybe a pretty brown-haired woman who's fond of short-tempered men?" she elbowed him and laughed.

Westley

"Got a girlfriend in the Imperial City? Maybe a pretty brown-haired woman who's fond of short-tempered men?"

Westley choked and turned a bit red "No. Who are you talking about, I don't have a girlfriend. I live alone on the waterfront district." He started grinning like a madman, and noticed Kayla was mimicking him.

"I'd mimic you, but I'd probably get you upset with my horrible expressions."

Kayla laughed at Westley's reaction. "Boy, I don't think you could mimic this gorgeous face if you tried!" She laughed even harder at her own joke, and leaned on Westley for support. She straightened up and wiped her eyes.

"But seriously, no girlfriend? Surely the Imperial City is teeming with lovely women." She raised her eyebrows. "Unless you're not looking for a woman. I'm sure there are many prospects there, no matter what your tastes are." She gave Westley a half smile.

Westley

"But seriously, no girlfriend? Surely the Imperial City is teeming with lovely women. Unless you're not looking for a woman. I'm sure there are many prospects there, no matter what your tastes are."

Westley turned a bit more red than before. "I'm looking for a woman, but who wants to go near the anti-social freak who lurks in corners." Westley looked away from Kayla and stared at the ground with a depressed look on his face.

Kayla snickered. "You do have that whole 'broody personality' thing going on. Some women find that attractive." She leaned in slightly. "Mystery breeds curiosity. As long as you don't over-do it, that can work to your advantage." She looked thoughtful for a moment.

"For example, if you find yourself in an inn and see a woman you desire, don't stare at her. Glance at her fleetingly, for a small moment, then look away. Don't stare. Staring is creepy." Kayla frowned at Westley's hair. "Comb your hair too, but leave it slightly disheveled." She leaned in and sniffed. "Maybe wash your dog as well. I'm the last person to say anything about washing, but most women don't desire a man who smells like a wet dog."

Westley

"You do have that whole 'broody personality' thing going on. Some women find that attractive. Mystery breeds curiosity. As long as you don't over-do it, that can work to your advantage. For example, if you find yourself in an inn and see a woman you desire, don't stare at her. Glance at her fleetingly, for a small moment, then look away. Don't stare. Staring is creepy. Comb your hair too, but leave it slightly disheveled. Maybe wash your dog as well. I'm the last person to say anything about washing, but most women don't desire a man who smells like a wet dog."

Westley was as red as ever. "I don't stare! I can manage my hair, but not smelling like a wet dog isn't possible. I could scrub all of my skin off, and I'd still smell like a dog! I can't help it. That's the way I smell. I don't even own a dog!"

Kayla laughed. "Don't get so defensive! I'm only trying to help! And if you can't help the smell, then you need to invest in some musk or something." She poked his belly, even knowing she would only hit his glass armor. "Before we leave on this expedition, find yourself a wench or something. Release some of that tension you have! Good gods, man!"

Westley

"Before we leave on this expedition, find yourself a wench or something. Release some of that tension you have! Good gods, man!"

Westley snickered "That 'tension' is my personality, and the reason women usually avoid me. I couldn't ever release any of the stress built up inside of me. I was born with it."

Kayla rolled her eyes. "Suit yourself," she sighed. "I think you'd calm down if you had a roll in the hay, though. If I see any worthy prospects, I'll send them your way." She returned Westley's smirk. "Just lighten up in the meantime."

Westley


"Suit yourself, I think you'd calm down if you had a roll in the hay, though. If I see any worthy prospects, I'll send them your way. Just lighten up in the meantime."

Westley sniggered. "The day I calm down will be the day of my death, and I intend on staying alive for a while. Trust me, all the anger you see is just programmed into me."

Kayla gave up and threw her hands in the air. "Then I guess you're doomed, until a woman who is obviously mad, comes up to you and attacks you with kisses or something." She rubbed her forehead. "You're giving me a headache, boy." She laughed. "I've never met a man so intent on NOT getting into bed with a woman!"

Westley

"Then I guess you're doomed, until a woman who is obviously mad, comes up to you and attacks you with kisses or something." She rubbed her forehead. "You're giving me a headache, boy. I've never met a man so intent on NOT getting into bed with a woman!"

"I never said I don't want to get in bed with a woman, I simply said it won't accomplish anything. I'm always in a [censored] mood! It's just the way I am." Westley smirked at Kayla. She had obviously given up on trying to convince him to release his anger.

Had Westley not had on his armor, she would have given him a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Then maybe all you need is a good fight. Sometimes knocking parts together doesn't do the trick." She shrugged. Talking about sex was NOT what she had in mind for the morning. She mentally chastised herself for allowing the conversation to turn to it.

"So..." she said awkwardly. "An albino Khajiit is pretty rare to see, I've heard. I wonder if she lives here?"