Kirah lounged as she waited, as much lounging as one could do stalking a werebear. The Beast Blood inside her called to be with her kin, but her mind held firm. The werebears were preying on her Skaal friends, and she'd be damned to Oblivion if she let another one die. She was just lining up the shot, reveling in the cold that emanated from her new Deathbrand armor when the portal opened. The black and purple sphere of Oblivion swirled for a moment, before disgorging a Flame Atronatch right at her. The arrow caught the thing right between its fiery breasts as she launched herself at the wizard that had obviously accompanied the werebear. When both were dead, she wiped her blade along the werebear's fur, standing up.

That was when the Morag Tong decided to make themselves known.

They didn't speak, merely attacking her. Kirah reveled in the battle, the slash of her claws through their armor, the way Mehrune's Razor would merely snick a man and he would fall down dead. Finally, she searched the bodies, coming up with the writ of execution. Unlawful guild of assassins? The Night Mother would love that. She was just considering a trip to Dawnstar when she heard the rumbling voice. "Dovahkiin!"

Kirah growled, lashing her tail back and forth. The Greybeards always had impeccable timing, calling her just as she was beginning to plan something. She shelved the though of Dawnstar, instead Shouting for Odahviing. The massive red dragon settled by her a few moments later, turning his head to speak. "To High Hrothgar, briinah?" Sister, he thinks he's being funny again.

"Yes, my old friend. Bo." She replied, settling herself down behind his head. She hastily grabbed the spike in front of her. Not that she feared flying, no it was more the taking off and the landing. Odahviing was always so hasty, and she feared being dropped. The dov in her reveled at the chance to fly, and she felt like roaring. But the joy passed all to soon, for the Throat of the World appeared, and with it the Greybeards, waiting in their courtyard.

Master Arnegeir, while never quite willing to use the word friend, would still say he was close to the Dragonborn. She had come to him late at night, speaking of Blades and Paarthurnax. When he had advised against killing the dragon, she had nodded. The next day she was up at the summit, laughing with the old beast. He had heard no more of the Blades, but he had not heard from the Dragonborn for quite sometime. And now she stood before him, dressed in armor that seemed to be made of ice, and a helmet with ridiculous horns on it. He almost smiled, almost. "Your taste in armor never fails to fascinate me."

Her tail lashed, and he could see the fur on her face whip in the wind. "You've never had any variety. Kirah prefers to remain the odd one out. What would happen if Kirah became known for one armor, and some mangy thief stole it?"

"I doubt a thief would steal from you. Aren't you in charge of them?" Arnegeir chided back. The Dragonborn smiled, catching him in a hug. By Kynareth, that armor was cold! She let him go, bouncing on her feet.

"Why have you called me, Arnegeir? What can this one do for you? Does someone need to die? Preferably someone named Delphine?" Kirah almost chuckled at the look on his face. She had begged to chase down Delphine, drag her back to Paarthurnax, and force her to see the error of her ways before throwing her off the mountain. Odahviing thought it would be fun, Arengeir, no so much.

Aregeir frowned. "No, Paarthurnax wishes to speak to you." Kirah nodded, then hopped back on Odahviing and flew to the summit. Why a creature of fire would prefer the coldness of this strunmah she would never know. When he saw her, Paarthurnax playfully butted her before settling himself down. Kirah watched the old dragon, and she once more swore to herself that no hard would ever befall him. When he was comfortable, he turned to her.

"Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin." He began, then he commenced with the topic he desired. "I have felt something in the world. A force that has not stirred for thousands of years. But it is weak, on the other side of the world from here."

"And you wish me to seek it out?"

"Geh. My wings are to tired to fly that far. Odahviing could take you, if he wishes."

The red dragon flames happily. "Let us go Thuri!"

"Odahviing, we don't even know where it is." Kirah rolled her eyes. "Please, Paarthurnax. Continue."

The older dragon chuckled slightly. "It is a land far to the west, past Hammerfell and past Tamriel altogether. The only way to reach it, aside from a three year sea voyage, is on a dov. You will pass a large land before it, but the place you are going is called Westeros. Speak to men in the cities on the land, find a way across. The people have not seen dovah for many years. They will be frightened."

"Yes, but why do we go?"

"I felt a great chill, a cold that would sweep over the land and across the ocean. Seas would turn to ice, and Tamriel would fall. Either deal with it, or convince the people of the land to."

Kirah stood, bowing to the dragon. "I will. We will leave within the week."

Odahviing growled as she secured the last bit of her belongings onto his back. "I was not meant to be a pack horse!"

Kirah ignored him, making sure that everything sat well. She had brought all that she thought she needed. The massive saddlebags she had commissioned for Odahviing contained enough to make the most seasoned thief drool. Daedric artifacts, enchanted weapons and armor, more jewels and gold than even a king could desire. Books, both for writing in and reading, made a stable base for her to pack wine and ale on. There was more food than she would probably need, but it was all for the best. Two young girls watched her clamber off of the dragon, tears on their faces. A red headed Nord stood by them.

"Bryn," Kirah tasted the word. It was strong, steady. He would stay, he had to. "Take care of them."

"You take care of yourself." He replied, kissing her brow. The two young girls came forward, and she picked them up in a hug.

"Runa, Sofie. I'll be back. I swear it."

And with that, the Dragonborn mounted up and flew away.