"Hold still!"
âBack. Off.â The Khajiit was bleeding and he didnât trust that undead son of a fetcher an inch when he probably smelled like a banquet after a fast. Some drunk bastard had pulled a knife on him outside the Bee and Barb and got a lucky shot in, which while the wound wasnât that bad, the fact that there was blood everywhere and rapidly soaking into his fur and clothes despite a firm pressure on it with a bloodthirsty vampire around... Well, the tight grip on his dagger held out in front of him seemed very justified.
ââ Jâhasi hissed, trying to hide his trembling and failing. He needed to get out of the city. Or find Brie-no, no, heâd worry her then. And possibly lead this bastard right to her too. Fuck.












