The Dunmer slowly read the sermons she'd seen and heard time and time before, shouted by ravening priests while the Irondil guard merely sat, their masked faces always the same implacable features of the Nerevar's face in death. AS she gazes down at the wise words of the once-god she contemplates them, her mind still failed to grasp the concept of CHIM and likely never would. The vampiress laughed in a almost sad manner, shaking her head with a slight sigh at the end of the depressed chuckle. "And likely my only way of ever getting rid of this curse, oh Nerevar guide me.."<br/><br/>Her words were longing but as she heard a stir and a groan of pain , followed by the question of her lovely Bosmer associative she looks up from her book and a black lock falls to frame the right side of her face as she smiles. Her heart would have swelled if it still beat in the way a mortal's did; still she was overjoyed to see the Bosmer well and apparanly able to move without disrupting her wound too much.Part of her then would have flushed with embarrassment at the question if it were capable of doing so. While the Dunmer had told herself the whole time she undressed Lithelle that it was for medical care and to check her body further for any other wounds and signs of infection . . . she also took the liberty of perhaps staring too long at the slender woman's lithe curves and lissom legs and arms. . . and breasts.<br/><br/>The vampiress shook her head, laughing. " You're in need of pants because you were burning up and i had to check for more injuries. You've had your time to play out your pride dear. I can't have you dying on my doorstep from trying to seal your wounds." The woman says gently, closing her book and setting it on the nightstand at her side before standing, hands smoothing out her white dress and tugging at the loosened corset before settling down on the edge of the bed and placing her hands in her own lap. The purple silk of the sheets was soft and likely better than most beds Lithelle had rested in before. It was clear that the blacksmith had wealth though she hid it behind doors. Kalith seemed almost nervous now, her eyes wandering to the bandaging before she stood again and turned to face Lithelle, placing one hand on her shoulder and rubbing at it, her hand cold but still warmer from the blood she had fed on the night before. " You need to lay down though, Sister-elf. If you keep moving you may only end up making it worse or tearing what has healed." Kalith didn't force her down however, her hand just lingered there as her slender yet strong fingers stroked the flesh of the woman she was slowly becoming infatuated with and secretly savoring the feeling. " We can talk after you do that."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>