His eyes burnt into her skin, the pale green almost glowing in the darkness. His strong jaw line was covered in dark hair, matching the long curtain framing his oval face. He was kneeling in front of her, his boots made of brown leather with three large dark iron buckles, sinking into the soft dirt beneath them. His armor was the made from the same light brown leather, from his hood, to his bracers. Gilded and crosscrosing down his chest and back. His hands were outstretched towards her, almost encircling her in a comforting way. The gesture just made Caillech feel like a child, lost and scared. A growl rumbled from her chest, she loathed the idea of being perceived as something so delicate.
"Are you alright?" he repeated. Caillech pulled her eyes from the haphazard stitching on his cuirass, obviously novice repairs. His lack of fear of her blood covered skin infuriated her. She straightened up from her cowering position and took a deep breath in through her nose, drinking in his scent. His musk was layered with another scent, something she only really noticed around the Companions. He was one of wolf blood, just as she was. And by his cool demeanor, a high ranking one as well. She could feel the dominance rolling off of him in waves. He obviously didn't know who the hell she was.
"Caillech!?" She looked over the strange mans head in time to see her cousins running through the cave towards her. Vilkas dropped his sword and came skidding to a hault beside her, crouching beside her. Farkas who had been hot on his heels, grabbed the front of the strange wolf's curaiss and pulled him to his feet. The man towered over even Farkas who was tall for a Nord man.
"If you even laid a finger on my cousin, thief," he spat at him, thrusting a finger into the man's chest, his colorless eyes filled with rage. The other man grabbed onto Farkas's wrist, not agressively, but firmly, pulling it from his cuirass. Caillech finally recognized him as the man from the inn, the Dragonborn. The pulse of dominace from his wolf side peaked, both Farkas, and Vilkas beside her flinched away from the werewolf, their wolf sides cowering from the alpha baring his teeth. Caillech's wolf curled her lips from her fangs and flattened her ears.
"The thought of harming your cousin hasn't even crossed my mind, pup." he snarled at Farkas and reajusted his curaiss, his green eyes blazing coldly. He was a very large man. Vilkas wrapped a large woolen blanket around Caillech's shoulders and lifted her to her feet gingerly. "I was in the Bannered Mare when she turned. I tracked her here." Caillech swayed where she stood, tucking naked form into the protective cover of the blanket. She had turned, in the inn? She could feel the blood drain from her face. She glanced at the Nord man she had killed, she had been avoiding looking at his face, but she had to know. His features were hard, angular and marred with scars, bright blue war paint streaked across his face. She didn't recognize him.
"He was the leader of a bandit clan..." Caillech glanced up at the towering Nord man, he was watching her intently. "You saved me the trouble of killing him myself. " She was positive he was trying to reasure her, but her stomach was still twisting into knots. He gave her a familiar crooked smile. It was startling how much that smile resembled the Daedric Prince's signiture snear. The sight of it made Caillech's heart begin to pound and her hands began to shake. She could feel the presence of the the Lord of the Hunt beside her, curling his arms around her hips and burying his nose into her hair, snarling at the new wolf, as if marking his territory.
"Let's get back to Jorrvasker," Vilkas said softly, pulling Caillech gently forward, she couldn't pull her eyes from the curve of the man's lips. His green eyes watched her intently, as if he was a child who had just found some wounded animal in the woods and begging his parents to let him keep it.
"I'll escort you," he said picking up his rucksack and slinging it over his shoulder. Farkas growled at him.
"We can handle it."
"I wasn't asking your permission."
Farkas glared at him, flinching again as the magicka from the alpha pulsed from the Nord again, forcing Farkas to close his mouth. Vilkas vibrated beside her. Caillech felt a stab of sympathy for her cousins, they didn't utilize the wolf within themselves enough to know how to fight the in born ranks. They man was obviously born an alpha, and would fight, maybe even kill, to keep his position. She had once been a low ranking wolf, the lowest you could be. She would be beaten up and wounded almost on a daily basis. Even with Hircine on her side, he told her it was to learn the ways of the beasts, to accept the beatings, and fight back when she could. Her wolf side lifted her tail straight up into the air, pushing her chest up and raising her hackles. Two could play at this game.
"You can accompany us to the gates. Then go your own way,"
"Miss, I would like to-"
"I wasn't asking," she snapped at him, and he took a step back as he was hit with her own wave of alpha magic. If she wasn't mistaken, a flash of burning heat passed behind his green eyes. Vilkas whimpered beside her, Caillech put an arm around his waist apolagetically. He wasn't used to wolves fighting for dominance aroun him, the Circle of Companions rarely fought over ranking. They mostly knew who they were under right from the start. The Nord man dipped his head, his eyes never leaving Caillech's, it wasn't in submission, it was in acceptance.
"Yes ma'am." he said, before straightening to his full height, as it reminding her that he had size and power on his side. Caillech almost laughed, he had no idea what she had on her side. He was large, but on closer inspection, he wasn't as tall as Tsun, but indeed taller than the average Altmer, and there for as tall as Dremora. Caillech herself was small, shorter than the average Nord, in reality she was often mistaken for a Breton because of her height. But she packed a punch within her tiny frame.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice cold and her eyes pierced into his. He held her eye contanct, but she could see him shift with discomfort at her gaze, his wolf side itching to snarl and fight for his dominance.
"Morvan," he said calmly, but his shaking hands betrayed his urge to fight. Caillech glanced down at his hands, which balled into fists as she looked at them. This Morvan wasn't used to someone like her vying for a higher position, she was sure females usually laid before him, offering their bodies willingly to sate his appetite. Which was undoubtably unfathomable.
"Let's get back to Whiterun," she said turning to her cousins and they nodded, eager to be free of the tension that crackled between the other two wolves. Caillech tightened the blanket around her body, not giving Morvan a second glance as they walked to the entrance of the cave. She could feel the Daedric Prince walking beside her, his hands gently caressing her back. She could feel his finger tips through the thick material of the blanket. She leaned into Vilkas for support as her legs trembled. The Prince wasn't going to let go of his grip on her mind in the slightest. She really did belong to him.