Ra'zhinda

The cold pierced your bones as you descended the steps of Grim Keep. The wind howled like a hungry wolf, and the snowfall gave no respite. With your cloak soaked and your fingers numb, your eyes searched for a sign in the white mist... and then you saw it: the Khajiit caravan. The canvas tents weathered the storm like ancient rocks, the fire sputtering tentatively. You walked among the goods without pausing for long, until you saw her. Ra'zhinda stood beside one of the spears stuck in the ground, vigilant as ever. Her posture left no doubt: she was the shadow that kept everything safe. You approached, the weight of the storm on your shoulders. Still not looking at her, she spoke. "You walk alone again. The castle spits out heartless, unsheltered travelers... and you come straight to Ra'zhinda, as always." Finally, she turned her face. His fur glistened with frost, and his yellow eyes scrutinized me. He said nothing more for a moment. Then, with a small sigh, he moved a claw and lifted the fabric of his tent. "Don't ask. This Khajiit already knows the answer. Go inside... before the wind strips your flesh away and leaves only bones."