#ralof

Ralof exhaled quietly and looked out toward the horizon. He shifted his weight awkwardly, hands now clenching and unclenching at his sides. Talisse noticed the subtle signs—how his jaw tightened, how he avoided her gaze. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “It… it would probably be best if we split up here.” She wasn’t exactly surprised, but felt the disappointment like a weight pressing down on her chest all the same.  “Oh,” she murmured, the single syllable hollow. Ralof turned toward her, hesitating. “Where… where are you headed?” “I—” she started, but stopped. Her mouth felt dry, her mind blank. The question shouldn’t have been difficult, yet her thoughts scattered the moment she tried to answer. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice small. “I don’t even know where I am.” The reality of it crept in slowly, like a cold hand closing around her chest. Every coin she’d owned was gone—taken first by the Stormcloaks, then no doubt seized by the Imperials. She had no map, no direction… no real plan. And now the one person, the only solid thing left in the chaos was saying they should part ways. A sharp, instinctive fear lanced through her. She barely knew the man, yet the thought of him vanishing into the trees without her made her stomach twist. The woods ahead could stretch for miles, and she wouldn’t know where to turn. Her breath hitched slightly as the panic began to build beneath the surface. Ralof’s expression softened immediately, and he stepped closer, putting a hand on her shoulder. “My sister runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road. I’m sure she’d help you out. We’ll be safe there for the time being.” Talisse blinked, clearing her eyes. “We?” she asked, her voice uncertain. His shoulders lifted in a brief, awkward shrug, and then Ralof chuckled. “Well… I can’t leave a girl like you all by yourself in the wilds, can I?” She felt heat rise to her cheeks, a mix of relief, embarrassment, and something she didn’t quite want to name. So, this was his way of inviting me with him, she realized. Talisse glanced past him, out toward the rolling treeline where sunlight spilled over the pines in soft, golden shafts. “Riverwood,” she repeated softly, tasting the unfamiliar word. Her voice still trembled faintly, but she managed a small nod. “All right.”