A Cat and His Girl (Tana/Kazahan Moments)
The Rift was not one of Kazahan's usual haunts in Skyrim. Trolls and bears were plentiful in the forests, especially closer to the sloping white sides of the mountains where snow fell soft and silent and slow enough to make one think the flakes were suspended on little strings. In addition to the wildlife, the Jarl and her people were staunchly supportive of Ulfric and his Stormcloaks; Khajiit were not looked upon with anything less than suspicion. They were little more than Thalmor spies or agents. In nearly every city in Skyrim Kazahan was barred entry unless he had business with someone already inside and the paperwork to show for it, and he knew he would have to send in Tana to buy supplies if a caravan was not nearby, if only to save himself the trouble of having prices hiked and goods withheld from him.
Tana Little-Bear was enthusiastic and young; two things that did not endear her to the thirty year old Khajiit. She needed experience and knowledge before she could be useful. Innocence was a flaw.
"Before Khajiit will send you into a city with my gold, especially one with a reputation like Riften," Kazahan said lowly to the Nord girl, "you will learn the value of the most important items to travellers: food, potions, and metal worked items. Nothing else."
Ahkari watched them with muted interest and amusement, and nodded to Kazahan as he sat across from the Caravan leader.
"It has been some moons since Khajiit has laid eyes upon you, Kazahan," she said. "Not nearly enough time for you to become a father of so old a child, especially one without a tail."
"Of course she is not my child," Kazahan hissed, cutting off Ahkari. "But as long as she is with me, I will make her useful. She has her own vengeance, and in return I will make her able to visit it upon whatever unlucky soldiers or mercenaries have so stirred her ire. But she has no real skills. So now she will learn how to buy and sell things."
"One of the most crucial of skills is to estimate value," Ahkari nodded, and turned to look at the girl. "How much will you pay Khajiit for this time and lesson?"
Kazahan snorted.
"How much gold could you have fleeced from such a child? And certainly you could not have done so to me."
Ahkari glanced over to Kazahan, who pushed over a thick Saber Cat pelt, folded over. Within was an assortment of objects and potions to be sold. The Caravan leaders eyes once more took in Tana.
"Speak, child. Kazahan will not speak for you."
Somewhere near the Haafingar/Reach border
Sometimes life was humorous.
An orc-maiden, barely five years older than the Girl, challenging him to single combat, for instance.
'I will die before going back to Larak!' She'd said, drawing her sword, ignoring her male companion's dying wheezes while his blood stained the stones of the road.
"You are too slow," he grunted to the prisoner, nudging her ungently with the hilt of his sword. She snorted even as she tripped and barely kept her feet. "We will arrive at Mor Khazgur either way. Dragging your feet will not save you."
"They will take me, but not allow you entrance to the stronghold," she said. Kazahan hummed.
"If that is true, then this one will simply take you elsewhere and free you. Or kill you. Khajiit has not decided yet. Which would you prefer?"
Morag the orcess looked at him with no small amount of fear. She glanced down at the little Nord girl who seemed to be the Khajiit's companion.
"Is... is he serious?" she asked.
The day was bright and shining, and Kazahan and Tana were on their way to return an Orc who'd thought to escape her lot in life.