~~one two buckle my shoe three four shut the door~~

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The Roads of Skryim were dangerous. She could vaguely remember her mother telling her not to play too close to the streets of Northpoint. Babette had never listened then, and she certainly was not going to start to listen to her dead mother's advice. Besides, for over three centuries Babette had been the danger along the roadside. She was the monster that parents warned their children to stay close to home in fear of. The only things that were equally terrifying as vampires were werewolves and she was nowhere near Whiterun and she was not traveling with Arnbjorn. She had just finished a contract. True it had been one of the easiest ones in the lot, but that was how it always went for Babette. Easy contracts, close to home. She supposed she appreciated close to home, it was harder for her to travel in the day, and despite her constant insistence that she could do everything at least twice as well as any other family member, her short little legs extended travel time greatly.

It would be daylight against soon, she noted as she headed south on the road from Riverwood back to the Sanctuary. She liked Riverwood most days, with the two buffoons competing for the attention of the woman, and the old lady who always gave her sweets when she passed through. The two children with their dog that were always up to something, she could just tell. Some days she wanted to stay and play with them, but every time she passed through Riverwood she had a job to be doing. Besides, she did not want to stay there too long. If she liked the people somewhere, she never spent much time around them. It was always too tempting to feed on someone. And she was starting to get hungry. She glanced back up the road behind her and then again ahead. She did not see anyone coming yet. Someone had to be along shortly. Skryim was a very busy place. As the the sun's light began pushing back the stars, the residents would begin milling about. Traders, hunters, bandits. Someone was bound to be along the road soon enough.

Finding herself the perfect rock to sit on, she climbed up the rough edges to sit on the small patch of green growing atop it. It was close enough to the road that she could see and be seen, but far enough away for travelers to notice the distinct vampire attributes in her eyes and complexion. She tugged the small cloth doll from her belt, humming to herself as she made the thing walk across he knees one way, then back the other. Not that she was having fun. Fun was nothing something Babette would admit to having, not openly. She just needed to look as much like a normal little girl as possible. But she was not having fun playing with her doll, who she had named Lotte. Girl named dolls right? Lotte, short for Charlotte and Lotte had many grand adventures. Babette imagined anyway. She certainly was not attached to the doll. She was a big scary vampire, a tiny scary vampire. Vampire did not enjoy dolls, not even adventurous, exciting ones like Lotte.

~~word count - 540 . tag - open . outfit - click .~~

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What fool said vengeance didn't ease the pain of loss? Stellan wondered exactly this as he ran through the moonlit forests of Whiterunhold in his beast form. He absolutely relished the feeling of the wind blowing through his fur and the dirt being scrapped up underneath his claws. The blood of his most recent kill, a cave bear, was still fresh in his mouth. That was only the latest in a long feast of bears, saber cats, stags, and bandits. He was clawing a path all the way back to Whiterun. The bandits who murdered his parents were only the appetizers. When he got back to Jorrvaskr, he planned on drinking enough mead to put a mammoth under the table. There had been several occasions during his journey back to Whiterun that he had to force himself just a bit more than usual to hold back so that he wouldn't be noticed. One of the last things you want to do when you become a werebeast of any kind is to get noticed.

Discretion hadn't been a problem for him for a long while. However, there were certain things that had the potential still had the potential to complicate things. For example, what to do with his clothes and equipment when he shifted during a quest was something that had caused a few tricky situations in the past for him. Luckily, after a little bit of trial and error, he was able come up with a method that fixed that problem, in that it hadn't failed him since he started using it, anyway. Stellan would venture a ways away from his campsite, find a reasonably large rock, move it, tie all of his belongings in a large sack, bury it in the ground where the rock had been, and move the rock back to its original space, after making sure no one was around to see him, naturally. However, on this occasion there was something he hadn't quite planned for, a young girl, out earlier than any child her age should be, was sitting on top of the rock he'd chosen to conceal his personal effects. He slowed his run and stood back up on his hind legs now walking toward the rock, contemplating what he should do next. Should he resume his run and let out a bellowing roar as he reached the child to frighten her off, or should he shift back into his stark naked human form and begin what would probably be one of the most awkward interactions in his life. Deciding that maintaining his own level of comfort wasn't worth the risk of alerting Skyrim to his status as a lycanthrope, he chose to wait until he shifted back to approach the girl. As Stellan felt his limbs shrinking and his body restructure itself, he began the slow walk toward the girl sitting on the rock.

As he put one foot in front of the other toward the rock, he smelled something in the air. It was faint at first, but he noticed it more and more as he drew closer to her. More importantly, though, it was something he'd never smelled before. He had to keep his wits about him, looking in all directions, even briefly turning his back on the girl to make sure that nothing was following him. Without breaking stride, he picked up a spade he'd left hidden under some grass and soil on the ground near the rock. He held it in one hand, but his muscles were ready to hold it in both to fight off any malevolent forces that may attack him. Before he knew it, he was a mere few feet from the little girl sitting on the rock. He cleared his throat, as he chose his words for the girl. "I hate to remove from your perch, little one, but I would greatly appreciate it, if you would step down from that rock for just a few minutes." Stellan tried to make his voice sound as casual as possible, but the fact that he was completely unclothed and holding a shovel made it hard not to speak with just a little bit of apprehension. The scent, which was stronger than ever, also added just a hint of suspicion as well.

~~one two buckle my shoe three four shut the door~~

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Neither wild beast nor naked man would have frightened Babette. Three hundred years tended to remove any traces shock or fright from most situations. He approached the rock she was sitting on, and spoke to her. She scowled a little as he requested that she move. "I am quite comfortable." The words rolled softly. "You seem to have misplaced your clothes." She commented, tucking the doll in to her belt as she stood up, brushing off her purple skirt. "Can you not defend yourself against thieves?" Though she doubted it was thieves that stole this man's clothes. She wondered though if they might have been stolen by a woman. She would have to ask Astrid if that was something that girl thieves did. Astrid would undoubtably love that question. "And why do you have a shovel? Are you hunting treasure." Though she doubted thats what he was doing.

He smelled like wet dog. She'd been to Jorrvaskr enough to recognize what he was. But then he probably knew what she was too. And there would be an understanding. She would ignore the fact that he was what he was, and he would ignore what she was, and it would be fine. Probably. and if not then she would make sure Arnbjorn took care of things for her. That is what he was good for really. Like a big watch dog. "Fine. I will move for you if you will promise to tell Lottie and I the undoubtably very interesting tale of your evening." And she would much prefer it if he used every gory detail possible. Those were her favorite.

~~word count - 283 . tag - Stellan . outfit - click .~~

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Stellan was caught off guard by the girl's surprisingly non-chalant reaction to seeing a naked man with a shovel in the middle of the night. Then again, a child who appeared as young as she was out alone at that hour was strange enough. The scent, which was growing at least a little familiar, began to resemble that of blood, but it wasn't what he normally smelled when his nose picked up blood, at least not as fresh. What's more was the girl's complexion. It was much more pale than that of any human he'd ever seen, Nords included. Her eyes, which looked as though they were brown when he first saw her, had seemed to shift to amber and were now looking almost red. He took a few more looks around while she stood and brushed herself off, trying to see what, if anything else, could have been making such a scent, only to redirect his gaze to her after her comment.

Stellan couldn't help but scoff at her underestimation of his abilities. "People who can't defend themselves against thieves have no business traveling alone." He drew closer to her. Standing on that rock, she was closer to his eye level. Her eyes were looking more red than ever. He couldn't help but chuckle just a bit at her question. "Not exactly." It was then that he had remembered the few occasions he had read anything about vampires, and that this girl fit the physical description. With the lack of fear she showed to him and any other creature that could be roaming Skyrim at night, the way she spoke and carried herself, there was no mistaking it. He stuck the metal end of the shovel in the ground right next to the rock before looking the girl, who was probably now too old to be considered a girl several times over, in the eye before asking.

"What do you know about the Silver Hand?"

Words: 333
Tag: Babette