HEY EVERYBODY. I DID A THING!

SKYRIM'S NOT MINE, BUT QASS AND LUPA ARE MINE. ARYA BELONGS TO MY SISTER.

THANK YOU FOR PROOFREADING FOR ME, BRE'LAKOR.

Once Farkas also moved into the sunlight, he spotted Qassanda talking to Adrianne Avenicci, the blacksmith owning Warmaiden's. The dark blonde haired woman was distracted by the thief and didn't seem to notice the Orcish bow with matching arrows strapped to her back. Farkas highly doubted that they belonged to Qassanda, who noticed him looking and waved goodbye to Adrianne.

"You ready Farkie?"

Farkas smirked at her and pushed on her head.

"Of course I am."

The red-haired thief fled his presence and trotted out of the gate, the guards seemed happy to allow entrance and exit to Whiterun with that dragon dead.

The pair walked without speaking, and upon passing the skeleton of that dragon, Farkas broke the silence.

"I told the guards that it was a secret. You being the Dragonborn. It's up to them if they tell anyone."

Qassanda looked down.

"Thanks Farkas."

He threaded his fingers into hers.

"Whatever happened to all the nicknames?"

A small smile slid onto Qassanda's face and she sighed softly.

"Hey…don't think of me any differently because I'm Dragonborn, okay?"

Farkas leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"It's hard to think of you any differently than the rotten thief from Riften who keeps stealing my coin purse." His hand moved to touch the small leather bag but the space where it normally hung on his belt was empty, he glared at Qassanda, who lifted the purse with a grin.

The werewolf sighed and reached for the bag, which jingled temptingly as the septims inside clinked against one another. However, Qassanda moved her arm backwards, behind and above her head, a teasing grin on her face.

Farkas pulled her close with one arm and kissed her softly, taking his gold back from her in the process. When he moved away a grin crossed those lips and Qassanda motioned for him to continue walking with her, their hands intertwined.

The pair arrived in the thick trees and Qassanda kissed Farkas on the cheek once before stepping back and nocking an arrow, ready to protect him whilst he was vulnerable during the change. He removed his steel armour and his pale tunic ripped and tore, snaps and cracks resounded as his bones re-formed, stretching and shrinking to accommodate his huge wolf body.

Once Farkas stood, fully formed, Qassanda began to walk at his side, her eyes searching while Farkas lowered his nose to the ground and began to sniff for prey, the image was actually quite adorable, and Qassanda reserved a little giggle for herself as the wolf raised his bright silver eyes to hers curiously, then returned his attention to the ground.

The pair searched for some time before a strange sound came upon them. Qassanda watched Farkas, whose ears were perked as he slowly walked towards the sound.

Then it went to Oblivion. Again.

The dragon roared and came down on them from a nearby mountain, bellowing in rage. Qassanda loosed her nocked arrow and it somehow pierced the leathery skin of its wing. The dragon landed on the ground with a thud, as if avoiding the risk of another wing injury.

"Hi fen ni arx dii goraan. Zu'u fent krii hi ahrk jaaril dii leret, sahlo joor!"

Farkas leaped at it while it was grounded, and Qassanda loosed an arrow into its small eyeball, it roared in anger and Farkas took the chance to unleash his beastblood completely. He was all fur and claws, tearing at the dragon with ferocity unmatched by all but a werewolf.

Qassanda fished around in her pocket and speared a small plant on the tip of one arrow before nocking it.

"Farkas! Get out of the way!" she near screamed, the werewolf leaped away from the dragon as Qassanda released the arrow, it found its mark in the dragon's gaping maw and landed in the soft forked tongue.

The dragon roared, but the roar became a gurgle and it thrashed around, falling to the ground with its jaw wide as its eyes. The wolf returned to Qassanda's side, panting and covered in blood with tufts of fur missing from his arms from where it had been cut by the dragon's sharp scales and horns.

"How did you kill it?" he asked in his growly wolf voice. Qassanda gestured him over to the mouth of the slowly burning dragon and dislodged the arrow from its tongue, holding out the tip, only a tiny piece of the deadly ingredient remained for viewing pleasure, and Farkas sniffed it curiously.

"Jarrin root," Qassanda explained, patting her pocket. "I still had some left over from what Arya gave me as a gift." The dragon's soul whooshed into her body and she ignored Farkas' wolf eyes, walking straight past the dragon and beginning to climb up the mountain it had hailed from.

Farkas rolled his silver eyes and scooped her up in his massive paws, lifting her onto his back and running up the mountain on all fours.

It was at the top where Qassanda jumped from Farkas' back and found the huge nest built into the snow, the werewolf sniffed the nest and Qassanda jumped in to sit cross-legged on the ground, seemingly heated from something underneath. Occupying the nest were eggs roughly the size of her head, if not a little bigger.

"I thought so," Qassanda murmured, at Farkas' questioning look, she sighed.

"I had been curious of the dragon language, so I started learning it as a child whilst I was bedridden with a fever. I still remember a few things, like leret meaning nest." Qassanda laid a hand against each egg in turn, the beautiful things were coloured like fire, ice, grass, and some were colours Qassanda didn't even know.

"These eggs are dead," she whispered softly, Farkas released a low growl of confusion.

"How do you know?"

Qassanda took the wolf's huge paw and laid it against a dead egg alongside hers. She wasn't sure if he would feel how cold and empty it was under his thick fur and tough skin, but Farkas' whine proved that he could.

Qassanda laid a gentle hand against the final egg, it was a beautiful silvery grey colour, and hesitated before laying her cheek against it. It was warm and seemed to pulse like a beating heart.

"This one's alive."

Farkas poked his head over Qassanda's shoulder and sniffed the egg with his wet nose.

"What will you do with it?"

Qassanda shrugged and Farkas had moved to sniff around a little when the egg jolted. Qassanda frowned at it and cradled it in her arms, feeling it jump and jolt against her body, before it cracked slightly.

Farkas rushed over and looked Qassanda in the eye over the egg, she opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by the harsh crack as a tiny eye blinked at her through the eggshell, a small horn followed, and finally, a little head poked out of the egg.

Qassanda's eyes locked with the dragon hatchling and her heart immediately melted.

Its scales shone with a wet silver hue, the tiny horn on its nose was black and its eyes blinked at her, a soft golden colour matching the most expensive metal.

The dragon pushed at the eggshell weakly and it fell apart around the beast, leaving a dragon hatchling at Qassanda's feet, to trip over itself and stumble as it walked into her lap with its wings and hind legs, as if it had no clue what to do. Then it opened its little maw and Qassanda immediately loved it like her own child.

"Mo…nah," it squeaked, "Monah, Monah."

Qassanda nearly squealed at how unbelievably cute this little creature was and allowed it to come close enough for her to hug it, the dull black spikes didn't penetrate her skin however, and she looked up at Farkas, who was now in his human form and dressing in the rough robes he had found on a corpse beside the nest.

"Don't look at me like that, Qass. You just saw what it'll grow into."

Qassanda bit her lip.

"And you suggest that I leave him here? He has no mother and no kin, he'll die if I don't take him."

Farkas almost objected again, but Qassanda's lower lip jutted out slightly as if she was about to cry and his resolve crumbled.

"Fine!" he snapped. "You'reresponsible if it burns down a village."

But his words fell on deaf ears, as Qassanda was already naming the hatchling.

"Your name shall be Yolah, little one," she said. Yolah made an almost purring sound as he nuzzled his head against Qassanda's collarbone. The hunt was forgotten; Qassanda now had her own child, her own little friend.

"Yol…ah."

I need to mention that I know dragons are supposed to have three Dovahzul words in their names, therefore creating a shout with which to challenge them, but not only is Yolah a name I am too used to using (I named one of my pets Yolah), I also need to point out that Qassanda has no clue how dragons work. So…that happened.

My little sister has now got an account on and you guys can check her out if you like, but she hasn't posted anything yet. Her account name is RainbowsJellybeansandUnicorns, because she's a derp like that.

Yoltaas niiv do draaf.