#truthofthewords

The sound of footsteps brought him into a state of acute alertness, dropping the quill onto the notebook he'd been writing in. His left hand groping for his sword, noting that his companion was asleep, and narrowed his eyes just the tiniest of bits. He was sure that they were probably nobody of importance, but one could never, ever be too sure in a harsh and hostile land like Skyrim, right? Alastor glared at the opening of the tent, moving his head from side to side, trying to catch at least a glance of whoever it was and if they were any potential threat.

"Oh so you’re saying you actually think in that thick head? That’s a new one." Snickering cat.