I never thought we'd make it back. The trip took twice as long with Neshoba on my back, and I had to stop two or three times to re-bandage his wound. My trousers are ripped to shreds. I'll have to find a tailor or a leather worker to patch these up. Or...perhaps I'll recieve new armor from that man in the square. The second-in-command of the Thieves' Guild.

I grin, picking up my pace. Neshoba is asleep on my shoulders so I take the steps as softly as I can. My mind wanders. The Thieves' Guild...I am beginning to wonder about it. I have heard of other guilds, that's for sure. And all of them have been little more than a group of thugs who wear matching armor. They'll kill just as soon as they'll steal. That's not how thieving really works. You never kill a target if you can help it. Self defense is alright but...downright assassination? That's Dark Brotherhood business, not thieves'. I do hope that the Thieves' Guild goes by this code as well.

The gates of the city are in sight and I pick up the pace a little more, my steps now a light jog. Neshoba whines on my shoulders and I peek over my shoulder to check on him. He looks tired, his eyes glassy and his nose dry. I need to get him fixed up as soon as possible. About thirty yards away from the front gate though, a guard begins towards me, stopping me before I reach the city.

"Oy there, elf. You can't be bringing a wild wolf into the city."

I narrow my eyes at him. "He's not wild. And he's injured. Please, I need to get a Priestess of-"

"You'll get no one," he interrupts, holding up a hand. "No wolves in the city. You don't know when he'll strike. He's wild and he's dangerous. Put him down. Then you can come in."

I begin to protest, but Neshoba's whines tell me that it will be a futile effort. Arguing with this idiot isn't going to heal him any quicker. But how am I supposed to heal him myself? I'm no mage and my antiseptic is nearly gone. Maybe I can whip something up out of herbs and Spriggan sap but...I don't know how long he has.

"This one greets you, Bosmer."

A raspy, throaty voice greets me from behind and I turn around slowly, expecting some kind of attack. Instead, I see two, cat-like eyes staring at me, then to Neshoba.

"Uh...hello. Can I help you with something?"

The Khajit woman nods. "No, but this one thinks she can help you. Come, come to the tents. We have good remedies for wounds and poisons."

I look up at Neshoba and he licks his chops once. It can't hurt.

I nod, following the woman to the nearby Khajit camp, finding it entirely welcomming and homey. The woman ushers me into the center of the circle of tents, motioning for me to set Neshoba down on a nearby mat. I feel a sense of unease creep over my skin as three more Khajit emerge from their tents, two of them wearing a set of heavy, steel armor. I eye them cautiously as I lower Neshoba onto the mat. The woman who greeted me returns outside as well, accompanied by an older looking Khajit with white hair and a grey-furred face. He smiles warmly at me, a bottle in one hand and a cloth in the other.

"This one greets you," he rasps before turning to Neshoba.

I nod and take a seat next to him, my eyes constantly on the wolf. He looks up at me with frightened eyes and I smooth my hand over his muzzle, willing him to calm.

"We will not harm him. In fact, quite the opposite," the woman says. "We aim to heal and to protect."

I blink at her. "Why would you help me?"

Her gaze stays on the wolf. "We know what it is like to be outcasted."

With that, I fall silent. Yes...I'd imagine they would know. Khajit are rarely trusted and never allowed into major cities due to their reputation for smuggling and thievery. The thought makes me smirk to myself. The people don't know a good thief when they see one, apparently. Still...they welcommed Neshoba into their camp and are willing to sacrifice their supplies to tend to his wounds. I will have to give them something for their help.

"We will have to open the wound to begin the healing..." the elderly Khajit mutters, and the woman agrees.

Then, without warning, he pulls out a knife and re-opens Neshoba's side wound. The wolf howls in pain and snaps once at the man, but I force my hands around his muzzle and hold him down. His eyes flash once and he growls at me.

You promised me you would not hurt me...

I shake my head at him. This is not punishment. This is to heal you.

The two Khajit pour a green liquid into the wound and Neshoba cries out in pain again, his feet kicking. I hold him down.

You gave me your word...

I look away from him, my hear aching for his pain. He doesn't understand that what they are doing is to mend his wound. After a few more minutes, he stills and I wonder if he is dead. I look to the female, who eyes Neshoba cautiously.

"He has passed out. From the pain, this one thinks. It will be some time before he can walk again."

I nod, standing. "Will you keep him here? I have business in the city before."

"This one will take care of him," she croaks, then smiles genuinely at me, gesturing for me to go to the city.

I smile kindly at her and begin towards the gate, glaring at the guard who would not allow me in before. As I pass by, I snake my hand into his pocket and remove his coin purse.

That will teach him.

"This is skooma!"

The Jarl snatches the vial from my hand and brings it to her nose, taking a brief sniff before stoppering it and handing to her steward. I produce the remaining vials that I have stored in my bag and then step down from the Jarl's level, keeping my head low.

"Skooma, my Jarl? I...am unfamiliar with the term."

Ugh...I hate the charade of respect that I have to keep up for these people. It takes entirely too much effort. Even still, I fold my hands behind my back and regard the Jarl with the honor she apparently deserves. She rises and begins to pace.

"Skooma is the refined form of Moon Sugar, and is illegal in Skyrim. It was brought here first from Elsweyr, the Khajit homeland." She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. "The bandits probably got it from that damn caravan outside the city."

My temper boils. "It wasn't them!" I snap, then compose myself. "I just mean...I've spoken to them and they seem like good people, my Jarl. I do not think they provided the skooma."

She snorts. "Khajit are a wily race. It's entirely possible they lied to you."

I narrow my eyes at her slightly, my tone darker. "I am not easy to lie to."

She seems taken aback by my attitude and gapes at me for a brief moment, then blinks and turns away from me, towards a chest in the back of the room.

"In any case," she begins, reaching into the chest. "You have done my city a great service." She brings forward a very large coin purse and plops it into my hands. Gods, it's heavy.

"500 septims, for services rendered. Also, by my right as Jarl, I permit you now to purchase property in the city. Speak to my steward if you decid you'd like to stay."

I look at the purse in my hands, but a thought hits me. I don't want property here. I never stay in one place long enough to want a house anyway. Perhaps I can coerce her into a different reward instead.

"My Jarl, if I may?" I start, stowing the purse away in my knapsack before taking a knee before her. She sits on her throne and nods once at me.

"I do not plan on staying in Riften for long enough a time to justify owning property here. But...there is something that I would ask of you."

She nods. "Speak it then, elf."

I stand then, folding my hands behind my back. "I have an animal companion that is currently in the care of the Khajit caravan outside the city. If my Jarl permits it, I would like to be able to bring him into the city when I please, without scrutiny from the guards."

She laughs once, leaning forward. "A savage wolf, in my city? You are asking a lot."

I shake my head. "Truthfully, I am not ma'am. My people have always been excellent care takers of wild beasts. In fact, we take them as companions and partners in battle. I have gained this animal's trust and I am confident that it will not attack anyone without my order."

She looks at me and blinks a few times, her mouth pressing into a hard line. She then leans back in her chair and consults with her steward. I stand patiently but my blood pulses hard in my veins. I promised to take care of Neshoba and, as kind as the Khajit are, it's dangerous to trust anyone. People take advantage of you at every turn and if anyone used Neshoba to get to me, I'd never be able to forgive myself. He's been through enough.

"Alright, elf. I've made my decision." She clears her throat. "You may bring the beast into the city, but he can never be here without you. If there is one incident of attack, you will both be dismissed from the Riften permanently. Am I clear?"

"Yes, my Jarl." I bow my head low to her and inwardly cheer.

I am good.

Neshoba glares at me when I return outside an hour later

Why have you returned?

I motion for the Khajit to step back as I approach and they do so, giving me the space I need to speak with the wolf. He growls at me as I bend beside him, distrust heavy in his gaze.

You must trust me, little one. I did not bring you here to hurt you.

I take a look at his side and am astounded by how good it looks. The blood has all but stopped flowing and the gash looks considerably smaller. The female Khajit is preparing a bandage in her tent and I smile.

You see? These people helped you. I did not decieve you.

He looks toward the caravan and his gaze softens. ...it hurt.

I scratch him behind his ear. It was necessary to get you well again.

His breathing is slower now, his eyes soft when he looks at me. I do trust you. Forgive my hostility.

I grin, scratching down his leg and the top of his paw. There is nothing to forgive, little one.

The femals Khajit returns with her bandage and begins to wrap it around Neshoba's torso, tying it tightly. She clips the excess cloth off with her claws and then smiles at me.

"He should keep as still as he can for tonight but can walk again tomorrow."

I nod at her. "Good. The Jarl has given me permission to bring him into the city."

The caravan appears to be packing up as the woman and I are talking. I eye her curiously.

"It is time that we moved on. The people here do not trust us and will not do business with us. Funds are low and we must be heading north, to Windhelm."

I ponder for a moment, then reach into my knapsack, pulling out the coin purse from the Jarl. I hand it to her.

"This one is confused," she rasps, looking at me with wide eyes.

I smile. "Thank you for helping him."