[ No words would ever be apt enough for the irritation she felt. No words in the tongues she knew, though she was nearly certain Paarthurnax would know a few fitting phrases in the dragon's tongue (a language that was meant to be her's too, but was not).
She stood in silent wonderment, at how exactly did she find herself in such situations. What angered her most was not the untimely interruption those imps had caused, but that she had been given a side rather than choosing one. It was not a question of whether or not she would've chosen the opposite side, but the lack of a choice in the first place.
(she did not want to consider the possibility that it was her previous choices that influenced this outcome)
A civil war had pricked back in the world she was supposed to be in, and she had purposely stayed out of it, because it was a headache and not her problem. Keeping the world from being devoured by an immortal menace of a dragon - deity even - had seemed more purposeful. And well, important. Hell, helping a talking dog still seemed more rewarding. Horrible master aside.
And yet, here she was instead. With no say-so.
Nearly, nearly it felt like a chain, with a way back firmly shut. And dragons did not take kindly to being held and her soul was no exception. For moments, she stood cleared away from the crowd while that dragon blood of hers seethed and when her vision no longer swam white from frustration she headed outside. Her disarrayed hair, nor her weapons and armor seemed to fit into the sickening glamour of it all anyway. So away she went, with the urge to Shout still scratching at the back of her throat.
She found a small niche, slipped her bow and quiver from her shoulder, and started picking at her arrows. Counting, straightening. Muttering. ] Can they not handle their own problems for a change?
dovahkiin ( elder scrolls v )
She stood in silent wonderment, at how exactly did she find herself in such situations. What angered her most was not the untimely interruption those imps had caused, but that she had been given a side rather than choosing one. It was not a question of whether or not she would've chosen the opposite side, but the lack of a choice in the first place.
(she did not want to consider the possibility that it was her previous choices that influenced this outcome)
A civil war had pricked back in the world she was supposed to be in, and she had purposely stayed out of it, because it was a headache and not her problem. Keeping the world from being devoured by an immortal menace of a dragon - deity even - had seemed more purposeful. And well, important. Hell, helping a talking dog still seemed more rewarding. Horrible master aside.
And yet, here she was instead. With no say-so.
Nearly, nearly it felt like a chain, with a way back firmly shut. And dragons did not take kindly to being held and her soul was no exception. For moments, she stood cleared away from the crowd while that dragon blood of hers seethed and when her vision no longer swam white from frustration she headed outside. Her disarrayed hair, nor her weapons and armor seemed to fit into the sickening glamour of it all anyway. So away she went, with the urge to Shout still scratching at the back of her throat.
She found a small niche, slipped her bow and quiver from her shoulder, and started picking at her arrows. Counting, straightening. Muttering. ] Can they not handle their own problems for a change?