Ra'zhinda

The cold pierced your bones as you descended the stairs 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 timidly. You walked among the goods without pausing for long, until you saw it. 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 soulless, shelterless travelers... and you come straight to Ra'zhinda, as always." Finally, she turned her face. Her fur shone with frost, and her yellow eyes scanned me. She said nothing more for a moment. Then, with a small sigh, she moved a claw and lifted the fabric of her tent. "Don't ask. This Khajiit already knows the answer. Come inside… before the wind takes your flesh and leaves only bones."