A Wolf Apart
Amaya shook her head groggily. She had just awoken from her fuyugomori. It always took a long time to become coherent afterwards. She tried sitting up and stretching, but found her hands to be bound. She felt herself bouncing on a seat. Even with her eyes closed she knew it was a cart of some type from experience. As soon as her vision cleared she confirmed it was indeed a wooden carriage and also she was not alone. However, the others sitting nearby appeared fearful of her as they were scooted as far away as space allowed. She glared at them and asked, "Nani?"
The one dressed as a beggar began screeching various pleas. Recognizing the speech as Cyrodilic she switched languages. "What are you looking at?" Her throat hurt from the lack of use in so long.
"Never saw a werewolf that could talk," said a blue-armored man near the front.
"Not a werewolf," she replied blinking the remaining sleep from her eyes. "Where am I? Better yet, where are we headed?"
"I don't know, but Sovengard awaits us," he sounded resigned.
"The Nord afterlife? Then this is an execution." She didn't sound too worried. "Why's he gagged? Did he talk too much?" she asked with a laugh.
At the word "execution" the beggar started yelling again. "Silence, horse thief! And you watch your tongue, dog, this Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king of Skyrim."
She stopped smiling and snarled at him. "I am NOT a dog."
"Then what are you?" As she was about to answer the driver yelled at them to be quiet. It worked for about ten seconds before the blue soldier started talking again. "I recognize this place. It's Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if…"
"Spare us your life story." She sniffed the air. "Why do I smell sulfur?"
"I said quiet back there!" the driver yelled as he pulled to a stop. "All right you worthless criminals, step up as your name is called.
They all stepped out of the cart as the man with the list began reading off names, "Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm," Ulfric approached the block, "Raolof of Riverwood!" Raolof did the same, "Lokir of Rorikstead," Amaya used the lull in speaking to address the man with the list, but had no sooner opened her mouth when the horse thief bolted by yelling "You can't do this!" and leaving her with her mouth hanging open.
The dark-skinned legate merely sighed, "Archers!" Knowing what to do, the bowmen took down Lokir with a single shot. "Hadvar, back to the list," she ordered.
"Wait," Hadvar said, "she's not on the list, no one is, Lokir was the last name." He turned to Amaya, "Who are you? What are you?" he asked appraising her. From all appearances the being before him was a tall bipedal wolf. Obviously female judging by her breasts, she was covered head to toe in silver-blue (think Russian blue cat) fur with lighter tones on her belly, feet, hands, under her tail, and around her hunter green eyes.
Finally given a chance to tell these legion idiots exactly who they were dealing with, she stood up straight and adopted an authoritative tone, "I am Amaya Boufuu, of the Okami clan. I am also known as the Champion of…"
Rikke didn't give her a chance to finish, "I don't care if your part of the Emperor's personal harem, you go to the block like everyone else. Execute the werewolf!" She bristled at the insult.
Hadvar looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry. I'll see if I can track down the Okamis to have your remains shipped back."
While the one called Tullius gave his monologue Amaya contemplated biting through her bindings and ripping out Rikke's throat. She was snapped out of her revenge fantasy by a distant roar. No one else seemed to hear it as one of the blue soldiers forced his way to the chopping block. As he was executed, a smell stronger than even his fresh blood reached her nose. "I smell sulfur again," she informed them.
"I don't care. Approach the block," Tullius said as he shoved her onto her knees. She heard another roar as he was speaking. Just as the headsman lifted his axe, a huge black dragon landed on a nearby tower, knocking everyone off-balance. It opened its jaws and all hell broke loose.
Amaya, as well as many of the Stormcloaks, used the ensuing chaos to make a break for it. She decided to follow the kind man known as Hadvar into a tower for shelter. As he cut her bindings she could think of only one thing to say to him, "I told you I smelled sulfur."