The first chapter was short and sweet, let's see if we can't get a bit more detail now that we're working in the main storyline. :)

I totally listened to forest sounds on youtube as I wrote this first part. ;P

Thanks for reading! ^^

-19 years later-

The sharp pull from the bow string stung her unprotected hands. She peered intently down past fletchings towards an unsuspecting deer. The deep scent of earth hung heavy in her nose, and the air was damp with impending rain. Amber eyes narrowed as her prey wove through the bushes and behind a tree; she couldn't get a clear shot on the damn thing! Whiskers twitched in frustration as she tried to get in a better position to see her quarry. She relaxed the tension of the string and held the arrow at her side to move better.

The khajiit held in her hands a long bow- quite basic in appearance, but at least it got the job done. The slender frame of the bow was taut and straight, able to send arrows flying much farther than a hunting bow. On closer inspection one could see the painstaking carving marks engraved in the wood suggesting it was hand-crafted by its owner.

The khajiit below the trees was lithe and small- able to move with great agility. Her fur was a rich shade of chocolate dabbed with streaks of a darker earthy color. While her maw and neck were a creamy white, she kept her head low to not show off her lighter colors. Instead, she allowed her markings to blend in with the forest around her, using her adaptive skills to become one as much as she could with her environment. Taking in a soft breath, she pushed herself onward, deeper into the forest.

'Get up in a tree.. I need an advantage point!' she thought to herself as she gazed around for the right spot. The young khajiit plucked a few stalks of blisterwort from the base of a rock before selecting her tree. Holding the arrow in her mouth and hitching her bow to the leather strips on her back, she pulled herself onto a low branch of an oak tree. The cat took the mushrooms and crumbled them easily in the palm of her hand- the blisterwort's fresh scent would overpower her own, just in case this deer had a keen nose. For some reason the smell of fresh blisterwort was always one she favored.

Taking the arrow from her mouth, she re-loaded her bow. Pulling back the drawstring, she slowly pointed the nocked arrow towards the ground. She only had to wait for a few minutes before the deer tentatively stepped forth from the undergrowth. Nibbling on some fresh grass, it had no idea the danger it was in. 'Just a little farther..' she thought to herself as the deer presented her with an exposed flank. Just as she was about to unleash the iron arrow, a flash of steel shot forward and the bellow of the deer was cut short by a mighty blade.

"Thorn!" she yowled down towards the earth. Glowering and angry, she made her way down to the ground.

As she leapt from the tree, a larger male khajiit was pulling a sharp dagger from the stag's neck. "That kill was mine!" she pouted as he cleaned his blade.

"If this deer was yours, Hawke, there'd be an arrow lodged in his belly," his deep voice grumbled, "you need to learn to shoot faster." There was only seriousness in his voice as he slid the blade back in its sheath on his side. If it had been anyone else saying that to her, Hawke would've bitched them to Oblivion. As it were, she had a great deal of respect for her brother. He was a man of few words, and she always took the words he did say in the utmost importance.

Thorn had much darker fur than his sister's. It was damn near black, and if not for the sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead, it wouldn't have appeared brown at all. He had the same darker markings as his sibling as well, along with the creamy white neck. However, across his muzzle were three deep scars that whispered to a bloody battle he never saw.

Hawke flattened her ears against her head but said nothing, instead helping her brother tie the deer's feet to a stick so they could share the weight of carrying it. They moved through the woods in silence, Hawke casting occasional glances towards the bigger cat in front of her. "Do you think it'll rain today? The crops could use the water," she happily asked, cocking her head to the side and giving her brother a fanged grin. He simply grunted "Hnn" and kept walking.

Their feet barely made noise on the earthen forest floor. While it was advantageous to not wear shoes while in the woods hunting, the simple truth of the matter was that they didn't have the coin to purchase boots, nor the knowledge or skill to make them for themselves.

Hawke averted her gaze for a moment, slightly downcast by her brother's lack of response, but quickly picked herself up again as she always did, chatting away again. "So what do you think we should make out of this one's hide? Maybe some new leather pouches for carrying mushrooms and ingredients? Ooh! Perhaps new belts for everyone! I know the one on my tunic is beginning to crack.. if only we had some troll fat to oil the leather once and a while.."

She continued happily remarking about the uses for the deer Thorn had caught. He glanced back at his sister as she continued mumbling, unaware of her brother's watchful eye. Thor didn't mind so much. He didn't like talking, so he let her do all of it for him. He was her blade, her protector. She didn't know it, but he let her do what she wanted most of the time.. let her have the extra potato from the stew so she could eat a little more.. let her have the extra blanket in winter so she wouldn't get cold.. little things. He turned his attention back towards a sturdy wooden structure that appeared on the hill in front of them. "We're home" he mumbled as the small wood cabin came into sight.

They hauled the deer up towards the side of their home. They had a designated 'gutting place' for wild game they caught; their mother wouldn't have it any other way! Hawke mused while thinking of their mother's sharp tongue, scolding them for getting blood on the front porch once. Her whiskers twitched in amusement as she turned towards her brother, "I'm going to go start the stew! Will you bring in some of the meat once you're done?" The only acknowledgement she got from her brother was a flick of his ears before he disappeared behind the side of the house.

Padding over familiar wood, she traced her steps back over the worn planks of the front porch and through the front door.

"Hawke! Is that you?" a familiar old voice cracked from the back of the cabin.

"Yes mother! We're home- and we brought back a young deer this time! I almost caught it myself.. but Thorn had to show off!" Hawke yelled back, moving towards the small kitchen and rummaging through a wooden barrel for some potatoes.

An old khajiit hobbled in from sitting in front of the fire. When she spoke, her voice was rough and cracked; she had told her kits once that it was from a fire, long ago. "Heh heh.. yes that sounds like 'ol Thorn.. always wanting the upper hand!"

Reaching into another wooden barrel, Hawke wrinkled her nose in disappointment, "Do we not have any more carrots left? The stew always tastes like skeever droppings when there aren't any carrots in it.." The old cat beside her gave a laugh that sounded like rusted blades clashing together. "Yes m'dear, there should be some in the garden out back ready to be dug up.. why don't you head out there and pick us a few?" The young cat nodded in agreement and quickly headed towards the back yard. Looking after the youthful girl for only a moment, the old woman headed back towards the den for a little more peace and quiet.

Hawke snarled at the tousled roots that were giving her problems. "Why won't you just come up.." she sighed in defeat. Suddenly her ears perked up as an idea stuck her. 'Thorn's hunting blade! He won't mind if I borrow it to uproot some carrots!' she thought in delight as she bounded towards the smell of the deer's freshly pooled blood. Her paws skidded to a halt as she neared the side of the house. Peering around the corner, she saw her brother sitting on a hacked stump with his eyes closed. Hawke was about to call out to him when she realized his clean hand was resting gently on the scars splayed across the bridge of his nose.

Shadows were beginning to form as dusk prepared to claim the day, whisking away the light to bring sleep to the land once more. Her eyes widened as he suddenly spoke, making the fur on the back of her neck rise. "Do you ever wonder what happened that night?" he asked, his low voice breaking the night, not even opening his eyes.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, taking steps towards her brother.

He lightly tapped his nose and rumbled, "To a deer you may smell like mushrooms, but to me the smell of blisterwort means you're nearby."

Her mouth curved in a slight smile, stopping to stand by his side. Her attention snapped back to his previous question as she carefully pondered what he ment. "Mother said that our tent caught fire one night and you were accidently dropped.." she answered, placing her hand on his shoulder, "she said that some nasty thorn bush snagged you."

"I know what she told us," Thorn paused for a moment, then put his hand up to his face once more. "It just doesn't sit right with me. Look." He took his fingers and rested them on the deep scars. "Seem more like claw marks to me."

Hawke shuffled uneasily in place, "But why would mama lie? I think you're just looking for something that isn't there, Thorn.." she smiled gently, taking a lighter tone. "I know you want some tough story to tell the nords when they come to trade, but I'm telling ya, I really don't think there's much more to it than mother being clumsy."

"Hnn," was his only reply, taking his hand off his face and once again tending to the deer. Hawke watched in silence as he carefully removed the hide from the rest of the animal, readying it for tanning. Hawke decided to change the subject, "Let's finish getting ready for dinner, I'm starved!"

After the carrots were sliced and the venison was added to the stew and left to simmer, the smell of a delicious home-cooked meal filled the cabin, making hungy khajiit bellies rumble with anticipation. Food was eaten in wooden bowls, and set aside in a water-filled bucket to be washed by the stream in the morning. The subject of their dinner's talk only consisted of Thorn's obviously superior hunting skills, as Hawke gently poked fun at him for 'messing up her kill' earlier that day. Thorn didn't argue, he merely sat quietly and enjoyed his meal, casting the occasional glare at his sister for saying jeering comments. Neither of the siblings brought up the earlier topic of discussion regarding Thorn's scars; Thorn himself wasn't one to talk to anyone but his sister in the first place, nor did Hawke feel like she had the right to pry in her brother's business.

Hawke breathed a steady sigh and snuggled under a few layers of warm pelts. They slept on the floor on top of animal skins that both of the siblings had hunted over the years. Every once and a while Hawke let herself wander a little farther out of the comforting range of the forest in venture of different animals. Goats were her favorite; they had such weird long curly fur and curved horns! The stags that she normally brought down just had straight antlers that branched up towards the sky like her all too familiar forest home. Wolves were also a re-occurring theme- she had become plenty skilled with bringing down the vicious canines. They had lost more than a few chickens to the wolves in the wild. Sleep gently washed over her body and lulled her into a hunting paradise filled with goats of all different colors. The steady purr resonating off her form was a signal that she was in a deep sleep.

Thorn was propped up against a pile of firewood they kept stocked near the hearth. The steady pop of burning wood was one of the few things that could sooth his mind enough to fall asleep at night. The soft sound of purring came from his left- seems like his sister was out for the night. His darker amber eyes flickered towards the form of an elderly cat sitting in a wooden chair across the room from him. His eyes were half-lidded; he was getting ready to fall asleep as well. Tucking his arms across his chest tightly, he closed his eyes and rested his chin on his chest. Soon enough, his breathing slowed and his posture relaxed.

Their mother watched the two young khajiit fall asleep, sewing together a new leather pouch from some game the young ones had caught not a week prior. She let her mouth curve up in a slight smile at the sight of the two completely at ease. She wished nothing more than to protect them from the bitterness of the rest of the world, and that's what she'd do till the end of her days. Though she wasn't sure how much longer those old bones could manage..

'Perhaps it is time..' she thought to herself, gazing wistfully over the two sleeping bodies. She shook the thought from her mind. 'No. Not yet,' she decided, setting down the leather for a moment to breathe in the fresh air that blew in from the window. 'In due time, I will tell them. But not today, and not tomorrow,' Miraja nodded decidedly as she once again picked up the leather from her lap.

A cold wind blew in through the window, making the sleeping bodies of khajiits shudder.