Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-10197675-20170202101117/@comment-10197675-20170207210607

Arjoir crept slowly out and away from his cave as he trudged down the mountainside pressing on with caution through deep snow. The crunching of the snow under the Khajiit’s light hairy feet made him feel anxious as he looked around for the slightest hints of breezes that may have been lurking. Arjoir’s main priority was food, he had a reliable water supply that ran down through a crack in the ceiling of his cave, so water was not his worry, but food was for the he was starving. Food had been running dry in the cave for the last month, Arjoir couldn’t remember the last time he had a good feast and he was willing to risk it, for he craved to find something. The Khajiit kept his eyes peeled for anything that may be consumed. He knew that there must have been something claimed by the winds wrath in the area, he sniffed around as he walked, hoping for something, but it was to no avail.

Half an hour had passed as the Khajiit had cleared the snowy ground to which he was now roaming the marshland of Hjaalmarch. Arjoir stopped as his nose caught a foul scent, exciting the Khajiit, he then glimpsed a rotting carcass ahead, half-buried in the marsh, it was a dear. With haste in each step, he scurried, scrambled and slipped as he traipsed through the marsh towards the carcass, and without hesitation he knelt down onto his knees and started to rip and tear into the lanky foul corpse eating what meat he could find, as he gnawed on bone and tissue. The ordeal was rather grim as the Khajiit’s fur turned red with flesh and blood dropping from his mouth as he scavenged the carcass, eating all he could. But Arjoir did not care for the taste nor smell, he only had one thought in his mind, and that was to eat. So as of forth, the Khajiit was content.