3: Braith the _

Whiterun. Sun's Dusk, 4E 201. I wander the streets of Skyrim's trade capitol, chatting with townsfolk in the market. It's either late afternoon or early evening, though I'm not sure which. The clouds have given way to a light downpour, and the merchants at the stalls are preparing to head inside soon. It's been awhile since I've stopped to stay in Whiterun for long, and so I take in the details of the lovely city. The mountain flowers and tundra cotton mix well with the scarlet ferns of Whiterun's plains. I breathe deeply and think about what the city experienced during the civil war. I remember how I took one of the Companions with me and together we fought Ulfric's boys off our turf. I remember how Balgruuf was grateful I stood beside him when we were victorious, as we had known comrades that could not say the same.

After enough pondering, I decide to check out my home. I forgot about Breezehome, and thus visit it. Braith the brat is outside, and rushes past me, almost grazing my armor.

I've never really liked her. Then again, I'm not too sure that anyone does. She's so disrespectful to everyone, and treats the children that she "plays" with terribly. I head inside, pushing back the big, wooden door, about 150 paces from the Whiterun gate.

Little do I realize, she follows me inside, but I'm not startled, surprisingly. I wouldn't doubt the fact that she came in my house just to taunt me. She says, "I'm not afraid of you, ya know, even if you are my elder!"

I smirk and look into the emptiness of my home, as I hadn't decorated it yet. It reminds me of what Braith's soul must be like.