“Terry?” she gasped, unable to help herself from running over. It wasn't easy to leap up and throw her arms around his shoulders without dropping Wabbajack or hitting him with it, but Mírmir was an accomplished hugger who’d had multiple friends who were almost two feet taller than her. Terry’s shock was nearly tangible as he was, but he caught her with one arm nonetheless, keeping his sword ready in the other. “We meet again, mortal,” he said. His voice was so much less echo-y like this, a pleasant rumble as she pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder. “How did you get here?” she asked after a moment, leaning back far enough to look at him. Raising his eyebrows, Terry gave her a look that might have been scolding. “None can hide from the dead.”
my friend @murrcurial has been writing an absolutely BEAUTIFUL skyrim fanfic that i think everyone everywhere should check out RIGHT NOW! go read Befriending Sabrecats and Other Extreme Sports and then come back here and join me in crying about 1 reluctant dragonborn and her emotional support ghost warrior doing whatever they can to head off the skyrim main quest before it knows what even hit it
WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NINA MY FRIEND, MY #1 CHEER-READER, MY FELLOW LORE EXPLORER, MY MAIN CONSPIRATOR, MY HUCKLEBEARER
I LOOK AT THE POSTER I PRINTED OF THIS EVERY DAY AND THINK OF HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU (AND THE ART AND TERRY)
HI PIRAAK DII MIDUN ULSE!!!
