She had always been alone, she preferred it that way. All by herself in her little out of the way cabin, nestled in the depths of the mountains. Undisturbed, for the most part. It was better this way for everyone.

She wasn't always physically alone, to be honest, though most of her visitors were less than 'normal.'

The golden dragon that inhabited the neighboring mountain visited from time to time, offering expensive throw-away trinkets in exchange for intelligent conversation.

The local Ulfric and his pack tended to wander across her lands at least once a year, greeting her as their own adopted sister. Usually their visits were for the soul reason of showing her the new pups and getting some affection and sugary sweets.

Even the lone shifters dropped by from time to time, checking in on her and offering news of the surrounding kingdoms and any other going-ons of the forest.

Rarely did she forego her needs due to her furry and feathered extended family.

Humans, on the other hand, she avoided if at all possible. Due to their innate hatred of the unknown, she kept her distance. It was safer for everyone involved. This was her life, and she enjoyed it.

Of course, change always happens when it's least expected.

The weather had turned cold, the sky opening up to drop storm after storm of pristine snow and ice, burying anything and everything in its path.

A raven shifter by the name of Matt had settled in between the snows due to an injured leg and almost frozen wings. After a good thaw, bandaged, and food, all that was keeping him in was the non-stop onslaught of nature's wintery fury.

Matt's sharp cawing cry jerked her out of a deep, and oddly dreamless sleep. Disoriented, she dug deeper into her pile of furs and cursed the raven's jarring laughter.

He called again, louder and more insistent this time, with a note of desperation that even her sleepy mind couldn't ignore and she finally got moving.

Stomping barefooted through the house, she slipped out the back door into the thigh-deep snow and cursed, casting the warming spell to keep toes from falling off as she searched for that ever cackling raven.

She heard him take flight before she saw him, stretching out an arm for a landing spot, while holding the other ready to brace the still-injured bird.

He landed lightly, to her amusement, refusing help though his bad leg still threatened to dump him off her bare arm. Without further warning, he cawed directly into her face. She swiftly pinched his beak closed with an unimpressed grumble. “Use your words, Matt.”

He ruffled under her gaze and nodded, still managing to glare at her in his avian form. “I've been calling your name for over an hour, witch. You didn't answer.”

She rolls her eyes. “I'm sorry if I sleep on occasion. I'm starting to believe you've never heard of that luxury.” She started to laugh as his haunty feather-ruffling. “What is it, Matt?”

He took flight so suddenly that she felt soft feather tips brush her cheek as he rose into the air. “Follow!” he cawed, circling her once before shooting off towards the treeline.

With a sigh, she started down the path already carved into the ice for her by her horse, the only other resident within her mountain home. She grumbled as she caught a glimpse of the sun rising through the trees, cursing mornings under her breath.

Matt landed in a tree before hopping down the branches to the ground, landing on a pile of snow much larger than the surrounding drifts. He cawed at her to hurry, calling her every flightless bird he could think of as some form of insulting motivation.

She sighed again. “I'm here. Now what?”

He turned his head to the side to stare at her with one beady black eye. “You can't see it? Right here?”

She blinked slowly, glancing from tree to snow drift with a critical eye. “I see snow, bird. What else is there out here?”

He hopped to a more stable spot before pecking at the packed snow with his beak, wings splayed for balance. Snow and ice gave way to something brown and flexible. He pecked again, harder, making the pile jerk, as if pained.

With a gasp, she jumped forward, brushing snow from the prone form of a man clad in leather. Brushing ice from his face revealed the barest hint of breath ghosting from between his blue lips. “Matt, how long has he been out here?!”

The raven huffed. “Dunno. Started calling you when I found him.”

She rolled him over, wincing at the stiff joints and chilled skin decorated with countless nomadic and clan-centric tattoos. His armor looked foreign to her, matching the tattoos on his dark skin. In his hunched position, she could barely see the wound that made him huddle beneath the snow, still bleeding sluggishly underneath mostly frozen hands. She checked his slow pulse with shaking fingers. “You found him like this?”

The raven made a thoughtful sound. “No. He moved more. Speaking to someone that isn't there, talking about a storm or some other craziness. Barbarians,” he scoffs. “Crawled here to die.”

She threw a handful of snow at Matt, getting a screech and a few choice curses in return. “Quiet. It doesn't matter. I need to get him inside.”

With some help from the raven, and a lot of cursing, she managed to get the large man into her cabin and swaddle him with blankets before the fire before the sun had risen much higher than mid-morning.

Once the wound was tended to, she was able to look him over without the ice and the threatened bleeding wound. Minus the ice, he looks to be close to middle age, gray wings appearing at his temples to accent the pitch black hair pulled back and away from his face. Harsh lines start to soften around his chin and jaw as he starts to thaw and color begins to flood back to his skin.

“You're staring,” the raven states, making her jump.

“Shut up, Matt.”

“Who's... Matt?”

Raven and witch froze under the intense black gaze of the bundled man. Even swimming in blankets and half-dead from the cold, dark power all but seems to pour off of him. He met her brilliant green eyes without hesitation or fear, his brown furrowed in confusion.

Taking a moment or two to collect herself, and pick her jaw off the floor due to the shock of someone almost dead having the ability to even talk surprised even her, she nodded towards the raven, who remained surprisingly silent.

The barbarian's consciousness started to waver, eyes drooping before she could even say a word, though his slurring words made her heart freeze as surely as the winder weather outside.

“So... you're the storm that saved... me?”

Matt coughed, the sound odd from a beak. “Storm that saved him? Tempest, what is he talking about?”