#v|parting elements

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“Mmf,” Ayalea grunts, surprised by Kael’s boldness, but less surprised by the action itself given earlier flirtations. She returns the kiss, reaching up and twisting her fingers into his tunic, holding him there with more force than is necessary. 

//In her vampire verse in Skyrim, Brianne had once been a member of the Volkihar clan and was thus a Vampire Lord. She passed that ability on to Ayalea. This will immediately start applying to threads in Skyrim using this verse.

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Her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace as she wiped the blood from her lips. She was tingling with energy, she felt like every muscle in her body was alive and ready to burst. 

“Finally,” she breathed. After having been cooped up in Asher’s home for so long, she never felt so relieved to go on a hunt. And to have one be so successful was even more satisfying.

They found a bandit camp and completely laid waste to each of the bastards, not offering mercy, especially being so close to Asher’s home. She’d fed from live people for the first time in what felt like ages; the warmth that filled her stomach spread to each of her limbs and brought color to her cheeks.

She looked over at Asher; he too was covered in the blood of the bandits and a layer of sweat that left him smelling irresistible to the vampire. She grinned at him, baring her fangs. He apparently had the same thought.

“The guards keep mentioning that Dawnguard shit,” Ayalea said as she dropped her bow and quiver and satchel on the table with a loud thump.

She’d just returned from the city after meeting with a fence she’d come in contact with through Delvin. She undid her cloak and tossed it over the back of one of the chairs and kicked off her boots, walking through their cave barefoot. Moving in front of him, she crossed her arms over her chest and let out a sigh.

“I think we should go poke around,” she said. “I’d rather know what we’re up against than have them decide to figure out what’s making all the exploding noises when you’re fucking with your Dwemer stuff.”

@wolfofriften

She’d been wandering through the woods in the Rift after meeting with Delvin to sell what she’d raided from the homes of Riften’s wealthy. Some of those things had come from the Black-Briar lodge, but she kept that information to herself; the guild would never fence items belonging to Maven’s family.

It’d been some time since she fed, and she was in the mood to hunt. Giving into the urge led her to the woods in hopes of finding some bandits. As she continued wandering, the scent of a lone werewolf caught her attention. Curiosity usually won over common sense; werewolves were dangerous, especially those that were feral, but she wanted to find out for sure.

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“Really… You can’t believe they did this?” she asked, motioning to the entirety of their cave. “This is your fault, you know,” she remarked, crossing her arms over her chest. “All your tools, all my jewels, all your Dwemer shit, all my valuables. Gone.”

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him into her room, pointing violently at the torn fabrics and various other mediums. “All of my paintings and whatnot. Destroyed,” she said, her tone indicating genuine hurt. “They didn’t even steal them, they just fucked them up.” The rocks she’d painted on survived, but that was about it. 

“Your. Fault. You and those stupid bullshit things that randomly go off to scare the shit out of me!” she shouted. “Did you think no one would hear them? Those pieces of shit attracted every bandit within the entire hold!”