Lithelle isn't really sure why she's so preoccupied with the soot on the Dunmers face.  It mimicked just a little too closely the markings of the Dark Brotherhood.  Her initiation had been a rough one, it wasn't the first life she'd taken, but  it was one of the hardest.  Her initiator had a penchant for the dramatic, smacking his hand in the pool of blood from the dead argonian, and wrapping his large hand around Lithelles face.  When she got to a mirror...it was when it hit her.  She was a monster.  Sometimes people deserved to die. ..that was beside the point.  Lithelle shakes her head dislodging the 'cobwebs'  she felt in her mind. Why the thought of the Dunmer as a 'monster' bothered her with out the slightest concept as to 'why'.  She's oblivious to how 'love sick' she comes off as by the simple discomfort she has at the markings...even while well aware the Dunmer is only in prayer.<br/><br/>Lithelle worries she must be burning up.  The Dunmar's flesh feels like ice.  She's broken from her trance when Kalith relents that she could pay. Then she continues to detail how she'd be glad to share her bed if Lithelle is willing to tan the leathers for her.  Her heart drops a bit at the other womans words. ' just women.' . Sure. They were both women...women who could be driving the other to the absolute brink of ecstasy for hours and hours on end .  With thoughts flooding her mind of flesh pressed against flesh..she swallows. She hadn't picked up any vibe that the woman was opposed to another woman sharing her bed...but clearly she had the wrong idea.<br/><br/>She nods. Not saying a word, as she follows Kalith outisde.  "I've tanned leather before. Consider this done. " She blushes for a moment as the other mer caresses her cheek in a manner not unlike she had earlier. The sweet caress only ignighting other thoughts in her mind.   "Thankyou for your kindness Sister. " she smiles using the term of platonic affection.  She sighs as she sits in front of the tanning rack, watching the dunmer longingly as she walks off, her eyes lingering on the larger womans backside..the sway of her hips...everything.  Lithelle sighs and turns to her work, groaning as she does, as even sighing is becomming painful. She needed medical attention, but healing spells and potions cost plenty of gold. And she was intent to pay the Dunmer for her hospitality. The injury would have to wait to be addressed once her work near  Riften was done.<br/><br/>She finshes just as the sun is starting to set.  With half the leather cut in to thin strips, hanging salted atop the rack, while she layers the rest of the hides with salt and pulls them taunt inside the rack.  She stands painfully, dusts her hands off and starts to make her way back towards the blacksmiths shop. The pain in her side is getting worse by the second....she pushes down waves of nausea as her flesh feels white hot to the touch, she stumbles and and sighs, slumping against the door. "Ouch.." she mutters, leaning her head back sighing as the cold wood cools her shaved head sporting her mohawk. Her face tattoos even more red then usual...she simply feels pain.  She sits for a few moments , before pushing her self up to her knee's slowly, she stumbles again and lands near a barrel. She was sure the Dunmer would be by soon...she hated to ask for assistance..but this situation was quickly getting out of hand.  She eyes the embers in the blacksmiths forge. It was low enough that she'd be able to heat metal to the proper heat to cauterize her wounds...the trick would be to not pass out.<br/><br/>Lithelle moves to the forge, places a  rod of steel into the forge and waits until the bar starts to glow with a feint orange hue.  She hikes up her shirt, reveling two deep stab wounds on her right side.   They're red and warm to the touch, clearly infected.  Lithelle is annoyed with her own carelessness and swears to never let a victim see her again.  She grits her teeth, pulling the tapered rod out of the fire and letting it cool. Once it is no longer molten, she pushes the tapered rod into her first wound. She grunts in pain, her mind spinning at the burning sensation to the point she almost blacks out... But theirs one more wound to go....She tightens her grasp and plunges the rod into the second wound. As she yanks it out she goes limp, losing her balance and falling against the workbench near by.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>