The ground squelched beneath their feet as they drew ever closer to Riften. The twins walked shoulder to shoulder and while Farkas seemed blissfully unaware, Vilkas' mind drifted to far darker places. How he hated Riften he thought to himself. It was wet, it was cold and it stank. Stank with the sickly sweet smell of humans and elves and fear. The people in the city lived in constant fear of being mugged or killed by the Thieves Guild or some sort of strung out Skooma addict.
"Brother…?" Farkas' voice broke through his twins deep brooding thoughts. A head popped up and ice blue eyes met each other to larger of the two twins just grunted in response.
"It's nothing. Just hate this filthy place and our reason to be here." His mind wandered back to the stern discussion Kodlak had given him before they left Jorvaaskar.
"I know, Vilkas. She's a Skooma dealer and you're going to have to find her."
"Kodlak, you know I do not wish to go against you, but can't you send Aela? The Skooma addicts, all of them are idiots. How can one become so dependent on such a pathetic substance?" His feet started moving underneath him as he paced the small room, his mind wandered and his mouth continued on his rant.
"How can one let one's own mind get so cloaked that they can't function?" The words started melding together in his mind and all that came from his throat was a low, deep growl.
" Vilkas, calm yourself. Find the Skooma dealer, and bring her back here. She is wanted by the Jarl of Windhelm. Until he can clear a spot in his dungeons we are to keep her here. Not sure where we will keep her but we will find a way. Now go. You have no choice."
Vilkas grumbled under his breath, annoyed. But it was unlike him to disobey a direct order, so here he was, traveling the wet muddy path to Riften, and going looking for a cat on Skooma. Looks like today would be fun for both him and his brother.
The tunnels down in the Ratways were cold and wet and his inner wolf bristled at the thought of staying here any longer than was needed. Every few feet as they walked softly, they would hear the muttering of some poor offending soul down on their luck. For most of the time that they spent searching for this she-cat, they could hear some Skooma addict listing off different items then getting angry with herself for putting them into the wrong order.
"By the Nine, Do these tunnels go on forever?" Farkas whispered under his breath and his brother snorted in laughter. As he deeply inhaled the musky wet air he caught her scent. Cat, all cat and all woman. His mouth began to water for some reason but he pushed the sensation aside, attributing it to the pleasure of the hunt. The wolf in him wanted to chase some Cat tail and if this little drug addict decided to run, well his wolf might get what he, the man, refused to give it.
The pile of hay she slept on was damp and moldy. Disgusting, but what she had slept on in the past was much worse. She had done much worse than hiding in this filthy little tunnel in her life. But the mold and cold had to be ignored, she couldn't stop. For some reason Ulfric wanted her, the racist bastard, and there was no stopping that man when he wanted something. Her ears perked up as she picked up her tail and began to groom it softly. The tunnels were as quiet, as they normally were, and she chuckled to herself as one of the sugar-heads listed off different objects and became angry. She had spent so much time around the sugar-heads that it seemed almost normal to her now to deal with their crazed mumbling. She had tried the drug, but being a Khajiit, she got less of an effect from it. Not her choice of drug. She would much prefer to sit in the tavern for the night drinking mead. Skyrim was good for that, as much as the Nords may hate her for her fur and tail, most had enough decency to let her drink alone.
Footsteps. Her ears perked up as she listened closer. It was not the usual shuffle of a sugar-head, it sounded much more determined, like people who did not spend most of their time down here.
Then a soft voice "By the Nine, Do these tunnels go on forever." An unknown voice lowly stated. And then a snort which was deeper than the first voice.
Two of them, oh sweet Azurah please let her live through this, she thought to herself. She compacted her small furred body into the corner, her pitch black fur helping to conceal herself from the intruders. She fiddled through her rough spun tunic and her paw wrapped around the sprig of Nightshade she always kept with her. "Please Azurah keep me safe and hidden." She whispered under the breath. She sat there as the footsteps approached, and she prayed.