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Why would Hircine want a werewolf who has given up on life? As we talk more into the day about the Blood Moon, I learn that this pack truly is one of the last here, just these four. Werebears have been one of the culprits of their destruction, along with the predations of dunmer and Skaal villagers. In a somewhat pathetic attempt, Majni tries to sell me one of the last sacred rings from Hircine's hunt. I thank him but refuse his offer. Such things should be held in sacred reverence, not pawned off like old pots and pans.

I offer to go hunting with them that evening to repay them for their kindness. The other woman, named Hjordis, offers to go with me and together we set out onto the starlit snow. Horker are plentiful here still, so we decide to go looking for one. Our trail takes us along the nighttime beaches, and we get to talking along the way.

"Aela...you're terribly disappointed, aren't you?" Her blue eyes flick over to me, and the celestial light glints on the shining scars on her cheek and lip.

I briefly look over at her, suddenly feeling those same urges I did when I waited out the night in that vampire's den. Heat flushes my cheeks and I look away. "I had hoped there would be more of you, and that things would be better for you."

Hjordis shrugs, her lanky form bared to the elements carelessly. It's as if she's always lived in such arctic conditions. "I wish that too. When my pack was destroyed by werebears, I was adopted by this one. My territory was in the northeast from here, and one day I'll get it back. Perhaps other werewolves will come here and we can form a new pack, and there will be males and pups in plenty."

With a slight smile, I nudge her arm with my hand. "Majni and his brother aren't enough for you?"

The woman smirks. "Hardly, but don't tell them I said that. They're very proud."

Before long we spot our quarry and shift. Her form is beautiful and flaxen-furred, and I admire her ferocity and bravery as she drives the other horkers away and singles out our target. Horkers are huge animals, and even werewolves must be careful not to be terribly maimed by their tusks. Yet I'd come along to help and not just watch her, so while I let her take down the target I keep the other horkers away, snapping and slashing at them to drive them further along the beach.

When I come back, Hjordis is feasting from the carcass of her kill and she lets me join in. It's senseless to carry home meat on an empty stomach, because you'll end up eating half of what you've spent so much effort dragging back. Stuffed up to my ears, we tear off large portions of meat and bring them back to the cave, where Majni, his brother Akar, and Rakel are waiting. They don't bother cooking the flesh, but rather shift and descend upon it hungrily. The way they all seem to fight for it is concerning -- it's like Majni exacts no discipline on the others and there is no social structure anymore. It's disquieting to watch.

After the pack is finished eating, most of them doze in the heat of the fire. I'm restful, but I don't trust them enough to sleep by them. Hjordis stays up most of the night with me, and we trade ideas about how to re-establish a pack back in her territory. Inevitably we come to the conclusion that in order to survive, she will have to pretend to be human as will the rest of her pack, just like the Inner Circle of Companions used to do. Neither of us like not being able to live openly, but to survive in hiding is preferable to being slaughtered.

At dawn I make my farewell to her, letting the other three continue to sleep as I begin my trek back to Raven Rock.

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