The ride back to Whiterun took a few hours. Although the trip felt longer with Nate's churning stomach. Chasing the goat around had really upset his stomach. Laying over the back of Walter, he tried to hide his eyes from the bright sun. He hated daylight. It was just too bright for his sensitive wine-soaked eyes. Walter was even wadding from side to side as he walked with his head hanging. Nate would only look up after seeing the base of a signpost through the gap of his arm to make sure that Walter was drifting down the right road. It was peaceful, until Walter stumbled over a rock in the road. Walter nearly collapsed to the ground, shifting Nate off the saddle to the ground unexpectedly. Walter staggered to the right but managed to spread his legs enough to stay on his wobbly legs. Nate groaned, sitting up on the dirt road to watch Walter throw up in the grass. Taking a minute to just sit in the middle of the road, Nate told Walter comfortingly. "That's right. Let it all out. You'll feel better... eventually." Walter snorted and hurled more. Nate leaned back on his arms, staring up at the sky to see if the world was still spinning. The sound of sauntering hooves made their way around them, while a man in armor asked him curiously. "You alright there, Lad?"

Nate gave him the thumbs up, commenting out confidently. "We're good. Just waiting for the world to stop spinning." The soldier slowed his horse to a stop, asking completely perplexed. "In the middle of the road...?" Nate shrugged, stating out casually. "It's as good a spot as any." The soldier shook his head, telling him coolly before moving on. "Lay off the drink, my friend. Or someone will rob you." Nate laughed, retorting back. "You've got to have something worth stealing to be robbed!" Enjoying his laugh for a bit, he then slowly and stiffly got up to his feet. Walter looked at him with unfocused eyes, prompting Nate to tell him casually. "Don't look at me like that. This isn't my first hangover." Grabbing Walter's bridle, Nate guided him to walk on beside him. The road was getting busier with farmers and soldiers. So, he kept Walter close to the side of the road to keep him from drifting into the carriages and riders. The worst of his hangover was passing, but he still stopped to throw up with Walter a time or two before they reached the stables of Whiterun. Walking Walter into an empty stall, he patted his neck and told him coolly. "Drink lots of water, Buddy. It helps." Walter snorted, dropping down to lay across the hay.

Upon leaving the stall, Nate locked eyes with a rearing skinny black horse that the Stablemen were trying to tug into a stall. The Mare snorted and resisted, while the younger Stableman asked the other one. "Why did you buy this useless Cyrodiil nag?! No one will ever buy her!" The mare kicked and thrashed, but they forced her into the stall. Slamming the stable door shut, the older Stableman panted out. "She came in the shipment. I didn't want her... but we're stuck with her for now." The Mare snorted at the Stablemen, pawing at her stall door with frustration. Nate didn't think she looked too bad. Walter was a Cyrodiil horse. However, Nords liked horses with lots of muscle. Hardy horses that could handle the cold and haul heavy loads over long distances. While Cyrodiil horses were designed to run and were only built to carry their riders in warmer weather. It worried him a little that she was a Mare in a stable full of Stallions... but Walter was too drunk and only a soft brown Nord horse seemed interested in trying to get her attention. Passing a coin to the Stablemen to water Walter, he made his way to up to the gates of Whiterun. Nate wasn't particularly fond of Whiterun.

From what he remembered; it was one of those holds that believed itself to be better than the rest. Since the hold claimed to have captured a dragon in the palace of Dragonsreach many centuries ago, they considered themselves quite literally high and mighty. Going so far as to name the upper portion of their city the 'Cloud district.' He just found it ironic that a place known for capturing a dragon... was made almost entirely of wood. Seemed rather poorly planned if the stories were true. That was his unpopular opinion though. Making his way through the crowd of the lower district, he waded through the farmers market and taverns, asking people that he bumped into. "You know someone here named Ysolda?" Most shrugged, moving on to go about their daily life. Growing irritated, he saw someone in fancier robes that was looking over a market stall with disgusted eyes. Tapping the Redguard man's shoulder, he opened his mouth to ask him, when the man jerked back to hold his nose and uttered out. "Ugh! You smell terrible! Did you swim in a wine barrel? You certainly don't visit the Cloud District. What do you want, peasant?" Nate slowly let a fake smile spread across his face, trying to hold himself back before punching the Noblemen into the crate of tomatoes.

Instead, Nate stepped up closer, causing the name to jerk back against the market stall. The man raised a hand that resisted touching him as he uttered out. "Lay a hand on me and I'll call the guards, peasant!" Nate stopped, lifting his fingers up to the man's face to snap his fingers to silence him, before telling him calmly. "Do I look like a farmer, you dick?" The man's eyes glanced to a guard, trying to say something but his voice was gone. The man then shook his head to answer Nate's question, before Nate grinned more genuinely as told him flatly. "Good. Now that that's out of the way. Ysolda? You know of them?" The man nodded, then pointed across the market to a short red haired woman in a patched blue jean dress. Nate started to move toward her, when the man grabbed his arm and pointed to his throat. Reluctantly snapping his fingers again, he mumbled out dryly. "Oh... ya. Sure. Whatever." Slipping through the crowd to follow her to a market stall with jewelry, he asked her aloud. "Ysolda?" The woman looked him over briefly, then neutrally told him in a tender voice. "Oh, it's you. You're finally back. I was starting to think you had forgotten. But I've been patient. Did you get what you owe me?" Nate rolled his eyes, grumbling out to himself. "Ya, I've been getting that a lot lately."

Clearing his throat, he asked her more clearly. "Okay. How much do I owe you?" Ysolda narrowed her eyes on him a little confused. People began to crowd them to look at the stall. So, Nate took her arm and lead her off to an open spot beside the Bannered Mare Tavern. She was a little reluctant at first, but relaxed when he let her go and stepped back. Rubbing her dirt stained hands on her dress, she told him nicely. "Look, it's not about the money, really. I never would have given you the wedding ring on credit if you weren't so obviously in love. But when Sam joked to me that there might not be a wedding... Well, then I feel like the least you can do is give the ring back. That was one of my best pieces. I took pride in it and I'd just like to have it back if you don't want it anymore. Please?" Nate patted his pockets down, then removed his bag to check it. When they both came up empty, Nate let out a heavy sigh and put his hands on his hips. Bowing his head, he winced as he asked her nervously. "Ya, that's fair. But a... by chance do you know what I did with it?" Ysolda's eyes widened in disbelief as she stated out in shock. "Ya... You went out to give it to your fiancée! Don't you even remember where you left her?"

Nate chuckled nervously, guiltily uttering out. "Wouldn't be the first thing that I've lost today..." Ysolda looked a little heartbroken as she informed him grimly. "By the nine... And after you told me that sweet story of how you met her... I can see why she left you." Nate stopped his nervous chuckling to seriously blurt out with curiosity. "Wait...? What was that story about my fiancée?" Ysolda's eyes seemed to dazzle like a dreamy schoolgirl as she folded her hands against her chest and answered wistfully. "How could you forget? It was the sweetest story I'd ever heard. You met at the full moon, under the biggest tree in Witchmist Grove, surrounded by fireflies. It was straight out of a storybook." Nate raised an eyebrow, sarcastically blurting out. "Ya... Me and my mouth... Shit." Ysolda was still in her dreamy state, when she told him. "You made it sound so romantic. You were swept away by her beauty and despite what others thought of you two... You wanted to run away with her. Live in a little cottage in the woods. Settle down. I couldn't bring myself to deny your love. So, I let you take the ring." Nate choked a little, stammering out. "What?! Damn... What was in that bottle?" Ysolda's dreamy features faded, growing more serious and disappointed as she grumbled out. "You were drunk? That's nice... The poor girl is probably heartbroken... You are cruel."

Nate's jaw dropped as he locked eyes with her, stammering out. "I... I don't... It wasn't my fault! I'm a flirt, I'll admit that. But I've NEVER used or hurt anyone." Ysolda's eyes narrowed on him as she crossed her slender arms under her chest, numbly stating. "That you know of. Typical... Look, just get the ring back. Please?" Nate groaned, shrugging hopelessly. He took a few steps to leave but turned to ask her one last thing. "Did Sam say anything on where he was going? Or did I mention anything else?" Ysolda looked away from him, retorting in a guarded tone now. "Get my ring back and I'll tell you where Sam told you to meet him. Otherwise, you should get used to disappointment like the rest of us." Nate blew the bangs from his eyes, telling her lightly. "Wow. First off, ouch. And Second... You seriously couldn't tell I was drunk off my ass? You were the one to give a drunk man credit. Teaching moment." Flashing her a charming grin, he watched her reluctantly blush before turning away from him. She was trying so hard to stay mad at him. Turning on his heel, he slipped back through the crowd to head back to the gates. Touching his chest, he checked to make sure that his father's ring was still around his neck. Feeling that it was, he muttered out under his breath. "Drunken love stories... That's a new one."

Making his way back out to Walter, he stopped before the stall. Walter had his nose in the metal trough, blowing exasperated bubbles in his water. Rubbing his temples, Nate walked up and splashed water on Walter's face as he piped out. "Alright. Enough brooding. Time to walk it off some more. Let's go." Walter slumped back down across the floor of his stall, snorting water and lazily looking out at the horizon. Tugging on his bridle, Nate tried to coax him up by saying firmly. "This is a teaching moment for you too, Buddy. Now get up. Let's go. We're burning daylight." Walter took his sweet time rolling over and shakily rising onto his feet. Holding his bridle better, Nate walked his brooding horse from the stall to head back out on the road. He knew generally where Witchmist Grove was. As he got closer to the thick forest South-East of Windhelm, he started asking the passing Farmers for a more detailed location. They acted terrified of the location but directed him to the spot as best they could. Leading Walter through the thick pine trees covered in frost, he looked for the landmarks as he told him. "You know it's a good sign when the locals fear a place literally called 'Witchmist.' What are the odds that it is just falsely named? Or that my 'fiancée' isn't a witch... but a really nice healer lady?" He looked to Walter, but Walter looked bored.

Nate shook his head at him, telling him flatly. "You are not helping me with that attitude, Walter. And what kind of wingman are you anyway if you get as sloshed as me? If I wanted a useless mount, I'd have gotten myself a mule... or an ass." Walter jerked to a stop, his head rising to look ahead with his ears perked up. Nate sidestepped a bit, informing him a little startled. "Whoa, I didn't mean anything by it. I just-" Nate drifted off as he followed Walter's eyes to a little wooden cabin that was just ahead of them. It blended in well with the surrounding trees, except for the smoke billowing from the chimney. Slowly approaching the place, he told Walter. "Doesn't look too bad." As he got up the hill, he stopped short and started to utter out in a rush. "Oh, fuck no! It's bad! It's all bad! We're leaving!" All around the wooden cabin was a fence of wooden spikes that were pointed out at anyone approaching. Some of them had freshly decapitated ram heads impaled on them. Their blood still dripping and leaking down the spikes. Nate tried to back up, but Walter stood firmly behind him. Turning around, Nate tried to push Walter back down the hill, stammering out more quietly. "What are you doing?! Back up! Nice and easy! We gotta go!"

Nate yelped and fell flat as Walter sidestepped him to head up to the front of the cabin. Jumping up to his feet, Nate tried to swat Walter in the ass but missed as he snapped out sternly. "What the fuck are you doing?! Get your ass back here, young man!" Walter happily trotted around the fence, stopping at the open gate to look up at the cabin. Nate staggered after him, trying to keep his voice down as he scolded out. "That's it, young man! When we get back to the stable, you're grounded!" Grabbing his bridle, Nate tried to tug Walter away from the front of the house. Walter leaned back on all fours to resist him, making Nate curse at him as he strained his muscles to budge him even a little. He was so focused on Walter, that when the door to the cabin opened, Nate lost his grip on Walter's bridle and fell with a huff to the dirt. From the cabin doorway, a gravelly sounding voice chipperly purred out. "Walter? You sweet creature. I missed you too." The hair on Nate's arms rose and he swallowed hard as he saw a large carrot get tossed to Walter. Walter happily bowed his head to eat it, while Nate muttered out in disbelief. "She turned my son against me..."

From the cabin, Nate heard something softly tap down the wooden steps, before the voice purred out to him. "Darling! I've been waiting for you to return! Now we can consummate our love!" Jerking his head to look at her, his voice broke when he yelped out. "WHAT?!" The second he saw her, his face drained of color and his squeaked out under his breath in uneasy horror. "Oh crap..." Walking toward him was a Hagraven! They were some of the deadliest creatures in Skyrim. Witches that had given up their beauty and humanity to become powerful sorcerers. This Hagraven had long black hair that had beaded strands braided down her exposed emaciated pale shoulders. Her eyes were a sickly looking red with bird pupils. Along her back, the sides of her arms and her legs were long jet black feathers. Her feet were a mix between human and bird, her toes and fingers equipped with long sharp black talons. Her black skirt was tattered and shredded up the sides to reveal her pasty scrawny legs. While her white peasant blouse was covered in smeared blood and dirt. She might have been a dark beauty before... but not now. She looked ancient compared to him. Holding up a hand, he struggled to rush out to her. "Wait... I... We..." When she didn't stop, he rolled over to make a run for it.

She cackled excitedly, leaping out across the distance between them to tackle him. Her hands ran down his back lovely, while regaling sweetly as she leaned over him. "You don't have to be shy. I'll take care of you, Lover." Nate shivered, slowly crawling away as he whimpered out frantically. "I really wouldn't if I were you. I'm unreliable! Your parents will disapprove! I'll just break your heart!" She grabbed his ankles, starting to drag him back toward the cabin as she cackled out. "It's touching that you care. We'll be so happy together, my little songbird. You'll see." Nate dug his fingers into the dirt as she dragged him, yelling out. "No. No! Walter! Get help!" Walter munched his carrot, snorting at him like he was holding the whole grounding thing against him. At the bottom of the steps, she stopped to drop his ankles and he tried to rush away again. Wrapping one of her long arms around his waist before he got too far, she hefted him over her shoulder, taking him up the steps as she hummed a pleasant tune that sounded familiar. Had he written that? She was much stronger than she looked. He thought about trying to fight her, but his magic would be practically useless against her. Hagravens like her had keen eyes and ears, making illusion spells a waste of energy. He thought about conjuring his swords, but Hagravens had a resistance to magic and he didn't own any physical weapons.

She kicked the door to the cabin shut with her foot, shrouding them in creepy dim candlelight. The cabin was small and smelled of fresh blood and cooking meat. The floor was covered in hay and the walls were lined with drying herbs. She took him to her bed and flipped him down across it. The wooden bedframe was broken with just a torn-up hay mattress laying on the floor inside it. It was like laying in a human version of a bird nest. There were warm animal skins, feathers, hay, and cotton all suck in it to make it comfortable but extremely hard to crawl out of. Hopping over him, she dropped to her knees to straddle him and put her hands on his chest. Nate grabbed the wooden sides of the frame in a death grip, shaking a bit as he panted out to stall with everything he had. "Forgive me... I don't remember your name?" She blushed, biting her lower lip as she cooed out in her gravelly voice. "Moira." Nate relaxed his arms a bit, panting a little softer as he said. "Moira. Nice name." She covered her mouth with her long fingers, her feathers puffing up as she giggled out. "That's what you said before. You even complimented my feathers." Nate adjusted to lean back on his arms, looking at her more closely. He'd only heard tales of Hagravens being vile ugly creatures. Yet, looking a Moira... there was something still so human about her.

He hated himself for getting into this mess... but felt even worse because he had made her feel pretty. The joy of that was plain as day on her blushing face. There was just no way out of this without hurting her feelings. Lowering her hands from her face, her long fingers outstretching to caress the sides of his face. Her touch so light against his skin like she was afraid of cutting him with her talons. Stroking his cheeks though, she asked sweetly. "Are you hungry, my love? I'm making your favorite just like you asked." She pointed to the fireplace and he turned his head to look. Curling his lips over his teeth, he bit down on them to keep himself from laughing. Rotating on a spite in the fireplace was the skinned body of a headless goat. He couldn't help wondering if he had made a snide comment about the bastard goat that he'd given to the giant... and she took it differently. To Be Continued...