It took several days to travel from Falkreath to Whiterun at the slow pace her horse was able to keep, and the trail of bodies she was forced to leave behind told her plenty about the climate of Skyrim.

The number of bandits was astonishing. The Civil War was clearly turning the country into a lawless mess. On a number of occasions, she also had to do some fast talking with Stormcloaks or Imperial soldiers; both sides seemed to be caught up in a 'with us or against us' fervor. Her papers at least, were respected, and helped keep the suspicious from delving too deeply into her carriage and finding her alchemy collection.

The road leading north, past Whiterun, was in excellent condition. If her map was correct, she would need to turn west at the crossroads by the Weynon Stones and follow it as it wended its way north.

Much to her surprise, she came upon another carriage, broken down near a farm. A jester was ranting his frustrations to the world in general. He was quite animated; doing a peculiar stomping, hop-dance and waving his arms so expansively that if he had wings instead of arms, he would have propelled himself into the air several times.

"Agh! Bother and befuddle! Stuck here! Stuck! My mother, my poor mother. Unmoving. At rest, but too... still!"

There was a burst of friendliness from her second soul, much to her surprise, and her mind was filled with the sensation of what felt like an enthusiastically wagging tail.

What has you in such a good mood? Renae asked her wolf.

He is Crow. We have found our Crow friend! Her wolf was almost squirming like an over excited pup. You'll see. Watch. Wait. See the Crow in him!

Amused but not questioning her wolf's judgement, Renae pulled up and hopped down, approaching the frustrated man with an expression of friendly concern. She had never seen a jester before, but his attire matched what she had heard. "What seems to be the problem, friend?"

"Poor Cicero is stuck. Can't you see? I was transporting my dear, sweet mother. Well, not her. Her corpse!" He gave a faint, nervous giggle, "She's quite dead. I'm taking mother to a new home. A new crypt. But... aggh! Wagon wheel! Damnedest wagon wheel! It broke!" He kicked it in his frustration, then uttered a muffled curse and hopped on one foot for a moment.

Her lips turned up slightly at the way the jester spoke of himself in third person. Normally that was a quirk of the Khajiit. It was probably part and parcel of the whole jester thing, or so she'd assumed, since it was entertaining to hear him talk that way.

Renae glanced at the wagon wheel in question and noted that it wasn't really damaged per se, so much as the bolts holding it in place had come out and the wheel had simply come off the axle. The carriage itself had clearly seen better days, and she suspected the poor man was making do with what he had managed to get his hands on for transporting his deceased family member.

"Cicero, this isn't too bad; it's really a simple fix if you have the tools. Maybe I can get some help for you."

"Oh. Oh yes!" Cicero danced a little in place, clapping his hands in delight. "Yes, the kindly stranger can certainly help! Go to the farm - the Loreius Farm. Just over there, off the road. Talk to Loreius. He has tools! He can help me! But he won't! He refuses!"

"Oh for Divine's sake," Renae muttered. "Is all of Skyrim full of bandits and jerks? Don't worry Cicero, I'll convince him."

The man perked up considerably, "Do that, and poor Cicero will reward you. With coin! Gleamy, shiny coin!"

See? Crow. Her wolf sounded amused.

Okay, I can see it. Renae held in a small laugh.

I will form the bond. Her wolf said, then we will wait and see. If he rejects it, we will not push him.

Renae acknowledged both of them with a small shrug.

She had vowed long ago to trust her wolf's decision in who to trust. As a social creature, if her wolf rejected someone, there was a good reason. That they walked alone so often and for so long was telling…. and thus far, always proven correct.

As for Cicero, well, the coin would help, certainly, though Renae wasn't so hard up that she would need all that much just to browbeat a man into doing the right thing. There were enough people in the world who chose to be scum. The rest of the population needed to step up to counteract that.