My entry for the competition...

When the Winds Call

The cold and bitter wind blew harshly today piercing like a thousand needles on soft flesh biting at the naked milky pale skin through the holes of a half wood elf's clothing while her blood dripped heavily on the half frozen forest floor. Her waist length, fluffy curled, white hair was a mess covered in twigs and blood. Her own blood and of her enemies'. The talons of a dragon left large gashes on her back and a sword had punctured her side. I knew better than to trust a mercenary and yet I did so anyway! How foolish of me, she thought as her half focused intense green eyes under black arched brows tried to glared hatefully onto the direction a head with a small cave not to far off if one where walking, which she was not. I will not die here! I can not die here! I refuse! She crawled and clawed her way through the dirt not having the strength to stand.

The half-ling barely managed to make it into the cave before she lost all strength and darkness began to take her into it's cold embrace. Well at least she had one comfort to leave the world with. That dragon and mercenary where both six feet under. Suddenly her eyes landed on a white stag with golden antlers and hoofs, who stood next to her as their eyes met with faces only inches from one another. 'He is coming... you must hang on...' a voice called out in me mind.

"Who?" she asked in a pained whisper.

….

Karnwyr roamed the forest ahead of Bishop, who wasn't to far behind as they hunted for a rare white deer also called 'Vara-Dvalinn'. It was said to be one of the forest's most beautiful creatures in all of Skyrim. It was allusive as a ghost and said to lead one to his rightful fate be it good or bad. It could cure the un-healable, bring luck, or bless those worthy. Un-tamable, deadly with it's sharp golden horns that was a strong as iron, and also as powerful and majestic as any dragon that now roamed these unsettled and wild lands that only the brave, experienced, or stupid would tread.

Bishop liked the wilds as they were, but something had disturbed the forest this day. Curious he followed and come upon a battlefield in a small clearing. The ground was scorched black with dragon fire and a large hole was left in the ground when it plummeted to the earth and where it took it's last breath. Two corpses where left behind. One of a nord man with long blond hair, who laid face down in soaking the burnt ground in his blood and the other the dragon.

His wolf like golden eyes looked over the battlefield as if he saw the engagement before his very eyes. He crouched as he watched in his mind's eye sort of view. "There where two people here..." he said in his rugged voice after a moment of silence with the wind rustling the leaves and grass was the only other sound to be heard besides his voice. With his large hand he picked up a patch of dirt and took a whiff. "One was a woman. The foot prints are far to small to be a man's," he continued as he let the dirt slip though his fingers. "He betrayed her. She's injured, but was able to kill them both. Her foot steps lead east of here... likely she's dead already."

He sighed as he stood. It was certain that the white deer would be miles away with all the noise this battle would have certainly caused. It would not cost him much time too see where the female warrior had died. She was not at all to hard to track down with all the blood everywhere. Then there was the pack of wolves. He could hear them howling in the distance... hunting was he was also now after. He was surprised how far she had come as he passed three miles east. It was impressive she had gotten so far in the state she must have been in. She was strong and the world was lesser for her lose or he thought she was lost to the world.

The sound of a wolf in pain met his ears as he come close to a cave that had a tree growing on top of it hiding it well from an untrained eye, but for him he saw it clear as one would see in day. Wolves where closing in on the spot. "FUS RO DAH!" as shout came and many a wolf flew back and into the air. Frightened by the sudden burst of power that had hit and killed several of their members the wolves fled. Their need for survival out matched their hunger for such a meal.

She's alive... he thought in sudden awe. He had to meet such a creature that could survive so many trials that most would be dead by now. Of course Bishop wasn't stupid by any means. He knew what the power was and that was a thu'um of the Dragonborn. A Dragonborn he had heard of in many taverns and towns as he pasted by. He had heard she was half elf and half nord with the only indications of her elven blood being those long, elegant shaped, elven like ears and the snow color of her softly curled hair. She was said to be a beauty without compare, but also an outsider to all that stood by her side. She was also to strong, who's heart no man had ever concurred. Well they also said she could shoot lighting out of her ass, but that was impossible and would be ridiculous if it where true. However, now he was to met her and see if any of the stories were true.

He cautiously approach his steps not making a sound as he honed in on his prey. Her back was against the wall of the cave for support as she stood half-dead. She was unable to keep her head up as it drooped down to face the stone floor of the cave. The Dragonborn was shorter than he imagined barely able to reach his shoulder if they stood back to back. Her legs where shaking from the strain as she coughed up blood. "Shouting... like that may have not of been... the best of ideas." she said to herself as she slide down her blood covering the stone wall of the cave panting loudly with a dead wolf on her right. He at first thought of leaving her there to her own devices, but something in the back of his mind beckoned him to stay like a light in the darkness drawing you in close. So against his better judgment he decided he would let his presence be known.

"Seems the stories of the Dragonborn are quite true," Bishop said as he leaned against the threshold of the cave. "Except for the height, shorty. Oh and is the lighting shooting out your ass true?"

Her head shot up with an inelegant jerk of her head, "They can never get the height right and Gods I hope that's not true," She replied through clench teeth though there was slight humor in her horsed voice. She looked up at the man who had spoken. It was obviously not the mercenary who betrayed her earlier. His wolfish amber eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of the cave. He was very tall or at least he seemed very tall with her on the floor and all. She couldn't be sure. Maybe he was an spirit or demon of the afterlife coming to guide her to the other side. She didn't really care either way with all the pain she was in, but of course she didn't want to die even if she was in pain. Her eyes try to focus on him, but she couldn't see his face clearly and things were so fuzzy... it was a bit annoying. "Not that it matters..." she said on the verge of passing out again. At least she wouldn't die alone here. Maybe he would be kind enough to bury her so the crows wouldn't peck out her eyes after she had died.

She was falling over back into darkness's cold embrace when he moved with a quickness she had never seen before as he stopped her head from bashing into a sharp spiky rock that's gagged edges would of surely finished her off. Then she could see his face as he looked into her green eyes seeing a fire of life still in dwelling within them. He was one hell of an image to leave his world with if she had any say in that manner. He has a scar over one of his eyes that extended to his cheek that mad him sexier. Nice high cheekbones and strong chin. His nose wasn't overly baring like many men in Skyrim had and those eyes where some of the most beautiful shade of molten gold she had ever seen. His skin was tanned with all the time he had spent in the sun with a five O'clock shadow gracing his handsomely shaped face. His hair was chopped short in a copper red color, but was pushed up and messy in that sexy sort of way, but by her guess he could of woke up like that.

"You need treatment," he said.

"Thanks for the obvious..." she replied with half sarcasm as she passed out again.

….

She woke the the crackling of a warm fire as someone with warm rough hands was wrapping linens around her wounds. His hands where large and surprisingly gentle as they worked there magic over her broken little body. It was strange. She felt safe. Protected. Like she had nothing to worry about as long as she was here.

After the rise of Alduin there was no where she could go and be safe. That was was proven time and time again. She felt like a poison harming everything that came to near... to close. It took a while for her to realize that she had to push everyone away and kept them at a distance, but she had not learned enough. She hand trusted that blond little mercenary. Their partnership was suppose to be just business. He'd come along with her for fame and gold and she would have a travel companion for the long road a head. He wanted a reputation more than gold and have the Dragonborn's head seemed like the fastest road to that with her injured because of the battle with the dragon. So he put a blade into her belly, but not before she could put a small knife into his neck.

All this time she had been alone and those she ever become close to windup hurt or killed. She had no choice, but to run, to fight, or to die for many a year; from dragons, to vampires, to Miraak, or to Alduin himself for her enemies where plentiful and all wanted her head. Now she laid her on a bedroll and she never felt safer or more exposed as his hands gently worked their charm across her skin bewitching her.

She was rather surprised she was still alive. That stag was very strange. It was like it was talking to her and keeping her alive until this man came. Some would say he was a beast in sheep's clothing with the way those eyes would focus or even glare, but she couldn't help herself from liking them. He is quite rugged and wild, but how could such callused hands be so gently? He must of killed many creature and people alike. Fascinating...

She opened her eyes peeking at him from under black lashes. He didn't notice she had awaken as he eyed her wound with such focus. She like that. Most would of be checking out her body... or worse taking advantage, but not this man. "Well don't you have a gentle touch," she said smirking weakly.

"Didn't want to wake her highness," He replied looking up at her.

"Thank you for that," she said gentle. "Where's the stag?"

"Stag?" Bishop asked in surprised. "There was only you in that cave and that dead wolf."

"I swear there was this white stag not two feet from me. It... it talked. Gods I must have been delirious with blood lost or something." the Dragonborn said shaking her head in denial. "Though I have met an actually real talking dog before... so I wouldn't of been surprised."

"Did you hit your head?" he asked cocking his eyebrow at the woman.

"Last time I checked... no. He was the dog of the Daedric Prince Haemar named Barbas. I just brought him back to his rightful owner is all." she told him as she trying to sit up.

"You serve daedra?" He asked glaring at her.

"No, I just returned the guy's dog is all to be nice otherwise I'd be stuck with a mutt. Damn this hurts!" She groaned holding her stomach for her back wasn't nearly as bad when it came to pain.

"Then maybe you shouldn't sit up," he said sarcasticly.

"More like don't trust a mercenary." She replied she muttered then growled sarcasticly. "Look let's be friends and let me travel with you to slay some dragons... you can trust me. No you just stab me in the stomach... Asshole!"

The man snorted amused at her humorous antic of what happened, "Never trust life is easier that way."

"You said it," She agreed with a nod as she smirked at him. "Thanks for treating my wounds and by the way my name is Kainaya."

He simply shrugged his shoulder not sure why he had helped her in the first place. He just did. "The name is Bishop. I'm going to get more fire wood."

"Okay..." She replied as she watched him walk away cocking her head as she looked at his fine ass and blushed. Oh Gods! Did I just check out his ass?! What the hell?!

….

When Bishop returned he found her petting the white stag he had been searching for. It was more beautiful than he had ever imagined. It's head was bowed toward the sitting girl as she gently petted it's snout. It seemed to be glowing in a gently white light. "Your 'Vara-Dvalinn'," Bishop said as the gathered wood slipped through his fingers and at the moment he didn't care.

'I am,' The voice in his head replied. 'I am the spirit of the forests of this world and a teller of fortune. Many have search for me... very little have found me. You have looked for me and I have found her. The last of a dying breed. A Dragonborn. Both strong and weak. One that could shape the world how she sees fit. Yet she does not. What is it you seek, Bishop?'

"I wanted to know if the legend was true," he replied as he approached and also patted the stag mostly to see if it was real or not.

'And you know not road to trend upon,' the Stag replied with a sadden voice. 'I kept her alive so you may meet. She will lead you to your path. Where she leads you is up to yourself.'

Bishop looked at the girl as she smiled widely at him. "Isn't he beautiful?" She asked with a slightly child like delight and ignorant of the stag's words as his hand slipped over her's.

"Yes it is." he agreed as she blushed.

'She is as wounded as your soul. Together perhaps it shall heal both of you.' Vara-Dvalinn informed him.

Fine... I will travel with her, Bishop thought to himself as the Stag disappeared leaving the two alone with their hands still intertwined without his knowledge as they looked into each other's eyes. When he realized what he was doing he jerked away and then picked up the fire wood he had dropped a bit embarrassed at his own carelessness. There was no way that was ever going to happen, but little did he know her already had her heart...