A low groan emanated from a pile of snow, the wet clumps of flakes parting to reveal a messed patch of black fur. Green eyes cracked open only after a mildly-frustrated rubbing that in turn spread over the face of an extremely hungover Khajiit. J’hasi let out the rest of the air in his lungs in a drawn-out hiss, closing his eyes to the blinding sunlight.
“Xuth...” he grumbled. He was freezing, and wet where the snow melted, which in turn made his ass feel like a block of goddamn ice. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had icicles on his whiskers. He sneezed, shaking his head before regretting that instantly, his head screeching for stillness. The Khajiit pressed his knuckles to his skull until the bits between his ears calmed down. He opened his eyes again, looking over the area he must’ve passed out in.
A fresh blanket of snow attempted to cover his tracks from last night, but where he’d fallen and tried to get back up left quite a mess, too much for even a decent snowfall to cover up. At least he’d be able to find the road again, because he had no clue where he was. Hopefully not too far from Winterhold. He’d picked up a book for Urag out of some musty old barrow, and a necklace from a grumbling Dunmer in Riften for Sergius to enchant. He checked his pack to make sure he still had both items, finding them wrapped up securely in his cloak, dry and unharmed. He let out a slow sigh of relief, fingers finding a bottle inside his pack and pulling it out with a small start of curiosity. He didn’t recall getting this...
J’hasi popped open the cork and the familiar scent from within hiked his brows up in surprise.
Well, no wonder he’d gotten so hammered. He’d somehow stumbled upon someone who either sold or gave away sujamma. If only he could remember their face, or the city... The Khajiit’s brows furrowed, trying to remember what had happened the night before. He’d stopped at an inn along the road, had a few drinks, then headed out again. He remembered meeting someone along the road, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember anything other than their voice, akin to a lighthearted flute, a huge grin...
