'Oh, right,' Senna said sarcastically, her arms folded on her chest, her narrowed eyes registering, with glaring disapproval, each of Kiara's painful efforts to straighten her wobbly legs, 'Your head hurts, and you don't remember a single thing! Why, you drunken...'
Kiara allowed the priestess's vehement tirade to trail off into silence; the meagre scraps of attention that she could muster - which was rather hard, what with the temple insisting on spinning round and round, making her ever so dizzy - were focused on the thing that she had lost all hope of encountering, the one thing that could still save her - on the altar of Dibella. With a tremendous strain of every inch of her limp, almost entirely lifeless body, she crawled up to the welcomingly glowing whatever-that-weirdly-shaped-purple-thing-was-supposed-to-be-called and pressed her burning forehead against its cool, soothing surface. Hardly had she mouthed a short, barely coherent prayer when with a burst of blinding light she finally felt it. Relief, blessed relief! The throbbing pain in the bite wound on her neck was gone, and so were the side effects of that foul fluid of Sam's; she gasped with joy as life force came rushing back through her veins, her limbs strengthening, her head clear as crystal, her usual cheerful mood back for what she hoped would be forever and ever and ever.
She wheeled around and gave the astounded Senna a flashing grin.
'I say, this place looks a frightful mess!' she cried, 'Did I seriously do it? Golly, I didn't think I had it in me! Well, let me help you clean up!'
And, with a daring swish of her hair, she whizzed past Senna, who gaped at her blankly and pointed in the direction of a mop and bucket, words failing her.
Kiara spent the next several hours scrubbing, and dusting, and sweeping up the most peculiar reminders of the previous wild night, and, just because she had got into the spirit of the thing, taking care of those parts of the temple that had needed cleaning long before she and Sam arrived. And all the time, while tackling cobwebs and moving furniture and relighting the candles, she chattered on and on and on, never pausing to catch her breath, making Senna wish her late-night visitor had not been revived from her sprawled, hung-over state.
'You see,' Kiara told the mutely face-palming priestess, 'I was exploring the wilderness when those nasty vampires attacked me. They caught me completely unawares, and I mean unawares! There wasn't even a cave or ruin or anything nearby! Well, one of them leapt at me and dragged me off my horse - gosh, these fellows are strong! - and bit me before I could even figure out what in the name of the Ni- erm, I mean, the Eight, was going on. I kicked their pale undead butts, of course, but I knew I had been infected, and there was totally nothing I could do. I had no Cure Disease potions on me, and I was literally in the middle if nowhere, so finding a shrine to pray at wasn't an option either. So I was all depressed-like - which is a most unusual thing for me - and I just sat in a log like a brooding fungus and watched the sun go up. And when it did, I felt so sick I almost cried! And then I looked all around me, and saw all the beautiful, bright colours, and I thought, Gee, this must be the last time I see all this; it's soon gonna be nothing but night, forever, no sunlight splattered on the grass like a heap of gold coins, no birds singing, no green trees swinging to and fro over roaring waterfalls, glittering like ever so many diamonds! And so I trudged on and on, taking in every last littlest detail to keep it with me through all the endless nights to come... And then I came to Ivarstead, and stopped at the inn there. I wanted to check out, you see, if I had lost my appetite for normal food already. Because that would be another thing I would terribly miss. I've tasted blood a few times - my own, of course, when I got a split lip during a brawl or something - and let me tell you, it tastes nothing like sweetrolls! Well, I sat down at a table, and there was this Sam fellow, who offered me a drinking contest. And I thought, Why not? Heck, it's my last day as a human, might as well throw a great big farewell party! Annd... That's where things get kinda complicated... I think I passed out, and then I woke up here, at... Hey, this reminds me, what time it is?'.
Senna, thankful for the blessed silence, was rather reluctant to break it.
'I'd say the sun has already risen,' she replied at last.
Kiara's eyes widened. 'Really? Oh my, I must get out there! I mean, I have to double-check that I'm not going to become a vampire, right?'
She dashed out of the temple, throwing her cleaning paraphernalia carelessly into Senna's arms.
'If you want to find that friend of yours, I'd suggest starting in Rorikstead!' the priestess called after her, but Kiara didn't bother to listen.

A Thalmor soldier ran up the broad, time-worn stone steps of Understone Keep, breathless and rather worried.
'Justiciar Ondolemar!' he exclaimed, standing on ceremony in front of his superior, who was occupied with his usual restless pacing up and down the top level.
'What is it?' Ondolemar snapped irritably, administering a well-aimed kick at one of the Jarl's dogs that happened to choose a spot right in the middle of his path for taking a nap.
'There seems to be some disturbance in the streets, sir,' the soldier blurted out.
Ondolemar raised his eyebrows. 'Oh, really? What kind of disturbance?' he asked coldly, taking great care to conceal the fact that in his imagination he was already picturing wild crowds of Talos worshippers on a riot that only he - naturally - would be able to suppress.
'I really can't tell, sir,' the soldier replied falteringly, 'Maybe you, with your superior judgement...'
Ondolemar cut him short with an imperious gesture. 'I get your point,' he said curtly, 'I will take a look at it myself'.
The sight that opened before Ondolemar's eyes when he exited the keep, with the guard trotting at a respectful distance behind him, proved to be thoroughly disappointing. It was nothing like a riot of Talos worshippers - just one crazed young human female running through the streets, singing some nonsense at the top of her voice. As she passed by some of the townsfolk, she tugged demandingly at their hands, urging them to join her - but the only response she got were puzzled looks and distrustful grunts; the people of Markarth were used to blood and silver, not to laughter and songs. But eventually she was joined by a few children and beggars, who echoed the words of her song, out of tune but with most foolishly cheerful smiles on their faces.
Having noticed the two sombre elven figures following her progress from the keep, the human girl paused to wave merrily at them.
'I am so happy to be alive!' she cried, laughing, 'Aren't you?'
'Human riff-raff,' the soldier remarked in his most obsequious manner, 'So primitive!'
'Yes, indeed. So primitive,' Ondolemar repeated mechanically, painfully aware of the colour that rushed in a hot, stifling wave from somewhere around his heart up to his face when his eyes met the girl's.