Sarila had a lot to think about. Normally, she never would have joined forces with petty thieves, but she had noticed that they weren't petty at all. In fact, Brynjolf seemed to have regulations. Sarila deduced that since he, the second in command, had plans and rules to follow, the others were bound to as well. She had also remembered hearing stories of lowlifes, murderers, and skeevers in the Ratway. She shuddered at the thought of those squirming rodent-like creatures.
If there were to be that many dangers in the Ratway, she would need an extra set of eyes, pair of hands, and an extra pair of ears. This meant she would need someone to enter the Ratway with her. She didn't have many real friends, and Lyvette was young and feeble, and had probably never brandished a weapon in her life. This meant that Sarila would have to find a new partner in crime. She smiled in amusement, because the term "partner in crime" was literal in this case.
Sarila decided to go fishing near the front gate. She approached the gate and left the city of Riften. A light gust of wind was evident in the crisp air of Skyrim. Sarila rubbed her hands together as she viewed the beautiful trees, which were beginning to regrow their leaves. She smiled, as it made her remember her childhood cabin. Her smile quickly faded into a frown when she remembered that fateful day in the forest where she lost her family. It was also the day she met Ytri, and the day the two became friends.
Sarila listened to the whinnying of the graceful mares and horses eagerly waiting to be fed crunchy apples and carrots. She watched as a small Torchbug flew in front of her violet eyes, as if to show its brightness to her. Sarila stopped her connections with nature when she heard voices. Tense voices.
"You'd best hand over what you lot have, or I'll be getting four new rugs for my house!" A gravelly male voice yelled. "Never! Khajiiti trade caravans never surrender their merchandise! This one thinks you should walk away." A low, female voice declared. Sarila recognized this woman to be a Khajiit, probably in one of the Khajiit caravans that travels Skyrim in hopes of trading and selling goods.
"What's that the other guy's got? Hey, I'm talking to you!" The male shouted angrily. Sarila stepped closer and ducked behind a bush to get a better view. Her eyes widened when she saw the situation unfolding in front of her. A very large, tall, burly-looking bandit was threatening the Khajiit caravan for their valuables. He approached a grey Khajiit male and brought his sword to the poor Khajiit's throat.
"Take that pretty necklace off your neck, or you won't have a neck to wear it on!" The bandit snarled confidently. "T-the Moon Amulet…it is the only memory of home this one has left! My mother gave it to me when I was just a cub!" The grey Khajiit pleaded. "I told you to give it here or else!" The bandit commanded again. Sarila gasped in disgust. That man is stealing someone's last memory of home! I have to help that poor Khajiit!
Sarila looked around for a nearby object to toss at the bandit. Her gorgeous eyes focused their gaze upon a moderately-sized rock. Before she knew it, the rock gently caressed her palm as she beaned the bandit in the face with it.
"Arrrgh!" He growled in pain. Sarila ran over to him and pushed him to the ground, giving the group of Khajiiti time to run for cover. The bandit quickly got back on his feet and pursued Sarila. "Get back over here, girl, and I'll make sure you'll have a limb left after I'm done with you!" The furious bandit ranted as he clutched his bloodied nose. Sarila had no choice but to keep running until she found a tree that had many branches. She drew her ebony dagger, ran to the tree, and jumped up, and as she did so, she plunged her dagger into the tree, and pulled herself up with it. Sarila then pulled her dagger from the tree when she perched on a strong, thick branch. "Get down here, or I'll cut your throat apart!" The bandit panted as he caught up to Sarila.
"By the Eight, girl, you are a feisty one! Get down here and I'll make sure your death is quick and painless!" He threatened. "Alright, you asked for it, I'm going up there!" The bandit paused after his threat to see if Sarila would try to make a run for it. "Mm-mmm, I don't think so! If you could get me, you would have already!" Sarila teased. "Gah! Fine then! Watch this!" The bandit immediately took his sword and planted it into the thinnest part of the tree he could find. He began to move his sword back in forth in a rhythmic motion. Sarila realized his plan: he was going to fell the tree, and after he cut it down, he was going to cut her down.
It took five minutes, but the persistent bandit finally sawed through the tree, stood back, and watched it fall. It took him three seconds to realize Sarila wasn't there. "Wha-? Hey, girl! Where'd you go?!" He snarled lividly. The bandit turned his head when he heard a high-pitched whistle. "Hey, Falmer-Face! I'm over here!" Sarila teased him again. The bandit, now completely ballistic, charged towards Sarila, sword in hand. What he failed to realize, though, was that Sarila stood in front of a ledge of a moderately high drop. Just as the bandit was nearing, Sarila nimbly dashed to her left and watched as the bandit tumbled down the drop. She looked away when the bandit was about to impact the ground, and covered her ears as he was impaled by his own sword. "Rest in pieces." She muttered.