Alduin has been absent. Not physically, but mentally. Banesteppe seems to be wearing on him. The entity of Banesteppe — or perhaps the demon of Banesteppe more like — has been keeping him on a short lead. With constant whispering of demands and incessant touches of ice cold hands down his spine and through his fur. Banesteppe
shows him things. As if the entity is putting memories from past into his own eye. Memories — flashbacks — of blood, gore, and death. Wretched things no one would wish to see, but here he is carrying the burden of them all. His pack is waning due to his absence. He cannot hide in the shadows and dwell in the deaths that Banesteppe is trying to drown him in. And he is definitely drowning — he’s going fucking mad.
Anger wells up in him more often, his face set into a grim line of discomfort and rage, just simmering under the surface. He wills it not to boil over the top, but it’s getting harder and harder. Banesteppe is testing him. Banesteppe is making him crazed and mentally absent — he’s losing his mind.
Today he emerges from his quarters. He senses activity outside. He taps down the long corridors, head level with his shoulders and that same phantom touch resting along his shoulder blades. As if something is walking beside him with a hand gently placed between them — petting him, soothing him, but it is anything but a reminder that he is trapped.
He emerges from the large set double doors and finds Meldressi speaking to a pale, cream colored wolf. His ear twitches and his his muscles tense for now reason. These aren’t his ticks, they’re Banesteppe’s. He carries fourth, only catching the tail end of words —
I'd ask for a favour, that one of your medics travel back with me and see to her. Is all Alduin hears of the stranger.
My condolences, I am one of the medics; what happened to her? Meldressi questions back to the stranger.
The cursed one moves across the bridge, his movements stiff, as if his body is sore and his muscles are aching. His face is mostly covered by the grand bear skull @
Dove gifted him, but his mouth is set in a grim line, his eyes are hard and unfocused, but he tries his hardest not to allow his energy to seem threatening. This could be an ally and if they’re asking for one of his medics, they must be.
“Greetings, stranger.”He rumbles from the depths of his throat.
“My presence was delayed, my apologies. Welcome to Banesteppe, a simple, old, haunted castle on a snowy hillside. Do you hail from Northfall?” It’s a fair assumption. They’re the only pack that they’ve made acquaintances with.
“You ask for a medic. Are you having troubles that we could assist in solving?” He speaks easy, gruff but not threatening — mostly curious.
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