Dragons Fangs and Tiger Claws {1x1 with DarkMudkip}

Nana was locked in her cell for a full week, barely receiving any food and water, but she barely noticed. Her entire body as numb, and she felt as though she was living outside her body, unable to feel the grief that came with such a great loss. Nana hung her head, staring at the floor, and watching her tears stain the stone floor beneath her.
 
Mitsunari entered her cell and scowled lightly, "You will repair the Danzai and aid in its reconstruction. Any resistance will lead to the execution of your children, starting with the oldest."
 
Nana clenched her fists at what Mitsunari had called the Fugaku, but rage and panic seized her when she heard they had her children. "My children aren't here, your lies fall on deaf ears; both of my sons escaped from Dawnstar." She growled lowly, glaring up at him in protest.

The sound of a gentle stream and birds chirping could be heard, a soft breeze rustling the leaves of the trees around him - he was in a forest. Warm sunlight filtered through the tree branches onto the mans battered, scruffy face, which had bandages and poultices on each wound. He lay in a tent on a bedroll that was way too small for him, his feet sticking out the end of the tent.
The soft clicking sound of a fishing pole could be heard a few feet outside the tent, and through the gap in the tent flaps, a small person could be seen sitting on the rocks in front of a river.
 
Mitsunari's expression didn't change, even as he lifted the iron medallion of the Chosokabe insignia Nobuchika wore around his neck. In truth, the lad had lost it when he helped his brother evacuate the residents of Dawnstar, but Nana didn't know that and Mitsunari used that to his advantage.

The man sat up and crawled out of the tent with a groan, looking around sluggishly as his eye adjusted.
 
Nana's expression softened and her heart ached, dropping into her stomach before jumping into her throat. "I'll fix it." She whispered; she couldn't bare to lose another member of her family, not her children. "I'll repair the ship. Please, just don't hurt my children."

The small figure sitting on the rock shifted and a long ear could be seen wiggling, before the elf turned their head, having heard movement. "Ah! You're awake!" The elf quickly reeled in their line and set the pole aside, scurrying over to the beast of a man. "Don't move so quick, yeah? You're pretty beat up; you're lucky to be alive after washing up half-drown!" The little elf had wild red hair and a splash of freckles across their nose, which wiggled as he smelled for any infections from the Nords wounds.
 
"Um... We should be just about to Falkreath." The youngster muttered. "Are you sure you're ok to be up and about just yet? You got some pretty bad burns on your shoulders and back, and a nasty bump on your head; what happened to you?"
 
"Y'mean you don't remember?" A frown settled on the elfs face. "No," He shook his head. "I found you far from any hold, so unless you were a traveler or a fisherman - you look like you eat fish often, your hair, it isn't stringy or thin." He pointed out. "Well, um, do you have a name then?"
 
"Well, it's good you at least remember your name!" He grinned widely. "M'names Ren, nice to meet ya!" Shifting, he half-squatted, half-shuffled around to Morochika's back, using his bare hand to remove the heavy green-brown muck that covered his back along with leaf patches to keep them from drying to quickly. "There's still the burns on your back, but from the bruising, I'd say you were lucky you didn't break your back." This kid sure was a chatter box. "You probably fell off a horse, or even a cliff!"
 
Motochika gave a small nod, listening to him talk and taking into account every word he said. "Maybe I did. No one really knows for certain, do they...?"
 
After wiping his hands free of the poultice, he cleaned Motochika's back off, then applied a fresh layer of the foul-smelling mud to his wounds; whatever it was, it was working. Moving back to sit facing Motochika, Ren mumbled to himself before speaking up to Motochika. "Well, since you don't really know who you are, and you have nowhere to go, you can stick with me!" The kid grinned. "Are you hungry?"

Irohahime vomitted for a third time, gasping and coughing between sobs. Someone - more than likely Isran - had replaced a blood potion with a potion of healing, which was quite toxic to the undead. Having realized what the potion was too late, she was now paying the consequences, vomitting uo both the potion, and her own blood.
 
"A little, if you don't mind..." Motochika answered, "I apologize in advance if I become a burden."

"Gods, I can't stand listening to her vomit." One of the Dawnguard stated from outside, tone heavy with disgust. "Why won't he just kill her already?" "The Jarl ordered specifically for her to remain alive; more or less than she already is."
 
"It's not a problem! It gets pretty lonely out here with no one else to talk to." Ren stood and moved over to where he already had a small fire going, adding more kindle and sticks to the fire to build it up. Hopping over to where a few fish had been gutted and stored in a basket, Ren moved back to the fire. Sticking a thin, sharpened stick through the fish, he placed them by the fire to cook, sticking the other end in the ground.

"Well maybe if one of you... Would like to come over here and let me feed, I'll be a little more quiet!" She hissed out, glaring through the cell bars.
 
"Sorta; I am alone out here, but I don't usually stay in one place for too long." He spoke to Motochika, all whilst keeping his eyes on the fish in front of him. "But other than that, yeah, I'm always on my own."

Irohahime felt to sick to try and argue anymore, laying down in her cell and curling into a ball.
 
Ren grinned goofily, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm actually fifty-six." He admitted. "Elves age differently, and actually live much longer than Nords. I think around twice or three times their lifespan." He said, picking up the cooked fish and handing one to Motochika, taking one for himself.
 
"Nah! Don't worry about it, a lot of people don't know that." He said, then took a bite of his fish. "I'm just glad I still look young." He teased.

Irohahime often went days without blood potions, and when she did get them, she'd often get beaten afterword, some days she wasn't even bothered with at all. Slumped against the cell wall, she breathed slowly, often times putting herself into trances to slow her body down, thus requiring little nutrients, and allowing her mental escape.
 
Irohahime lay still for a moment, then started to stir. She could smell blood, and all of her teeth ached, her eyes opening. "Daisuke...?" She whispered hoarsely, letting her eyes adjust.
 
Irohahime slowly sat up, but didn't get to her feet. "Free me..? Why..? You must know why I'm here." She muttered, averting her gaze. "I'm a monster, and you shouldn't have come here, if they catch you, you'll get hurt." She kept her voice low, a soft frown on her face.
 
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