Water lapped quietly on the frozen banks. Horkers called to one another, though for what, Rabdom really couldn't tell. Birds squawked noisily overhead. The Dunmer was sure that if he decided to go for a swim, he would find salmon and other types of fish attempting to find warmer places to swim for the night. But he didn't feel like swimming in freezing cold water and getting something like hypothermia. Dolniir would surely kill him if he did something like that.

The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. This bothered him immensely. He was used to having the daylight for more than eight or nine hours a day. He was used to a pretty moon at night and the cool warmth the nighttime brought. Up north, it was too cold to even think about going to sleep sometimes. It also felt lonely. Barely any of the wildlife seemed to enjoy it here – if they were even suited to live here – and often seemed their waking hours during the day, rather than travel by night like most prey. A lot of the predators here were also quite frightening. Just about the only thing he'd learned to live with were the Horkers; so long as you didn't bother them, they didn't bother you.

Rabdom watched quietly at the water's edge, arms around himself as he looked out into the distance. Somewhere out there, he often realized when he was forced to come out this far north, was Morrowind. Had he not felt the fear he had, the loneliness and sadness, he might have returned home again. But anytime he thought something even remotely close to leaving Skyrim, something always managed to pull him back, to keep him there.

"Rabdom?"

The elf nearly jumped. Turning and cocking his head, he looked to see Dolniir squatted down by the fire. Meat sizzled on a makeshift cooker overhead. Beside the man, the Horker that they'd managed to catch and kill earlier – Dolniir had done most of the work; Rabdom only distracting the beast till the Nord could come in and off its head – was cut and mostly gutted. Some of the fatty meat sizzled over the fire.

"Are you going to stand there all evening," Dolniir went on, "or are you going to try and eat?"

With a squeak, the elf happily forgot – or at least started to ignore – his brooding for the time being, and instead skipped happily over to the fire. He never liked the cold. He enjoyed the much warmer climates of places Morrowind and Cyrodiil. But, as his mind would have it, there seemed no use in going to those places. He had work that he needed to do in Skyrim; there wasn't much use running away from it, was there?

"It's still cold!" Rabdom protested unhappily, squatting down next to the fire as well. He tried his best to at least warm up his hands, but the wind didn't help him much.

"Perhaps it's because you've been standing alongside the ocean for so long," Dolniir mumbled as he poked at one of the cooking pieces of Horker.

One piece in particular slipped off and fell into the fire, causing the fire to erupt in a fury of sparks, wood, and flames. Dolniir cursed and flinched. As if entranced, Rabdom leaned in towards the fire, arms over his legs. As Dolniir attempted to fix the 'mess' – pushing wood back into the fire without burning himself and making sure nothing had lite – Rabdom swiftly reached into the fire and –

"By the Nine, Rab!" Dolniir cursed as the elf reached in and grabbed onto the piece of meat that had fallen. It quickly slipped out of his hand and landed on one of the rocks that circled the fire. It looked a little burnt. "You'll get yourself hurt doing something like that," Dolniir went on as Rabdom looked over his hand.

"It looks fine to me!" Rabdom squeaked. He wiped his hand on his armor quickly, as to get the grease off of it. Looking over his hand one more time, he thus presented it to Dolniir. "See," he said merrily, "no burns!" Dolniir grabbed one of the elf's hands and, after a thorough look over, sighed and shook his head.

"Just don't do it again," he ordered, and proceeded to put another slab of meat on.

Rabdom gave a squeak – whether it was a happy one or a surprised one was hard to tell – and fell back onto his rear. Tonight was going to be a long and very cold night.

The mid-day sun was bright and warming. It was a nice change of pace from the day before. Rabdom couldn't see this nice weather lasting long up here, so he decided to make the best of it. Mostly by slipping and sliding around in the partly melted snow, all the while Dolniir scolding him for making stupid descions. But he only fell flat on his face once! And maybe his rear, too, but it didn't hurt too badly! Dolniir just seemed to worry too much, was all.

"At least it's not so cold anymore," Rabdom was saying as he happily skipped around in the half melting snow. Dolniir was walking steadily not too far behind; and from the looks of it, it didn't look too pleased. "Maybe it'll get better by nightfall!" Rabdom went on happily.

"I highly doubt it," Dolniir muttered, making his way around plenty of large puddles of mud. "Most of all of this will freeze by then, I'll bet." Rabdom stopped his merriment and turned to pout at the Nord. Dolniir couldn't help but roll his eyes. "We're almost to Winterhold," Dolniir assured. "Once we're done there, you're free to go wherever you wish."

"What about you?" Rabdom asked. He turned as Dolniir caught up to him, and began walking alongside him. "Where will you go when this is all over?" At that, Dolniir shrugged.

"Probably search for more Dwarven ruins," he said, "or do a few errands for the College." Rabdom squeaked.

"More Dwarven ruins?" he asked. "Isn't that kind of dangerous?" Immediately, Dolniir scoffed.

"I think I'm capable of defending myself, Rabdom," said the Nord. He looked to the Dark Elf. "Or have you already forgotten our time with the bandits?"

Rabdom looked down sheepishly. "It's better safe than sorry," he said. Overhead, a bird glided past. Dolniir grumbled.

"Trust me," he replied, "I know how to defend myself. No need to worry."

"But that's what friends are for, right?" asked Rab as he trotted ahead. Turning himself around, Rabdom began walking backwards – something that made Dolniir snort. "They're supposed to worry about each other and help each other, right?" the Dunmer went on saying. "Most people wouldn't have anyone to care about them and make sure they were alright if it weren't for their friends."

"So you're telling me I have no one in this Aedra forsaken world that gives a damn about me?" asked Dolniir. He actually sounded a little offended for a moment.

"Well, do you?"

At that, Dolniir stopped in his tracks. Bowing his head, the Nord began thinking profusely. That's what it looked like to Rabdom, anyhow. Time seemed to move slowly as the two stood in silence. The bird was still circling overhead. It almost seemed to be watching them, or waiting for something. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Dolniir looked up – and, for once, wasn't surprised to see Rabdom standing there in front of him. He actually looked concerned; his expression twisted into one that resembled grief or sorrow.

"Dolniir?" asked the Dark Elf. Dolniir opened his mouth to try and say something, but nothing seemed to want to come out. "I'm sorry," said Rabdom, voice almost going quiet. After another moment of silence, Dolniir sighed and nodded.

"Everything's fine, Rab," Dolniir assured. Walking about the elf, he said, "Let's get going. I hope to reach Winterhold before sundown."

Rabdom paused for only a moment before he followed Dolniir swiftly. Strangely, he was rather quiet. The bird overhead squawked and veered to the left, away from the two travelers and towards the vast wilderness of the north.