<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LeXUKip.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Moric<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Just Outside Markarth<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Dark<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Iljana, Open<br/><hr/><br/>The bard practically missed his first steps as he ventured from juniper treeline, finally having made his way back to the main road. In his hands rested a good indication of why the man's face was twisted into an expression anger. The oaken, gemstone inlaid lute that has mentor had gifted to him upon completion of his studies. Cracked right at the center bowel, broken in half and only hanging together by the graces of the strings. With a frustrated sigh, Moric tossed the instrument to the side and began to make his way further down the rugged path. His clothes were still ripped and sliced from the run in he'd had with his barbaric cousins. He'd thought people were just telling stories until he seen them, but now he wasn't so sure.<br/><br/>Steel blades in their hands, well crafted bows; metal armor. The last part is what had Moric's mind really blown, never had he seen such a thing before; and he'd studied the barbarians enough he'd have known. Sure, it was still the half plated and scanty styling that young men often fantasized about, but that didn't change the fact that they never wore steel before. The bard's mind was soon drawn form it's absent frustration, however, when the sound of a wild roar pierced the air. His eyes widened for a moment, hand gripping the Nordic axe slid through a clever loop on his belt. Ducking lower, he began to hurriedly sneak back into the nine's forsaken juniper treeline, feet taking him forward even as a warrior's battle cry pierced the air, followed in turn by another roar.<br/><br/>Unfortunately Moric didn't make it in time to see the Nord fell the creature, no he arrived just in time to witness her rising up on a large hunting cat. He found himself blinking several times to make sure the frost and moonlight weren't tricking his eyes. Was that a tiger? He knew damn well they weren't indigenous to the area, so what the hell was one doing here. More over, why wasn't it attempting to make the red headed lass it's next meal? He kept his breath hushed though, fingers trailing a small circle as a faint purple aura surrounded him for but a second before fading. Cloaking his scent from the cat's nose so his higher vantage wasn't given away to the creature if it decided to turn hostile.<br/><br/>Moric shadowed the two then, glad now that these nine's forsaken trees granted such great cover. Soon he noticed the lass, accompanying the lynx, slowing her movement. From his vantage, he couldn't see what she was approaching; didn't notice the two figures she was coming upon. He could hear them, though; at-least one  of them. It was fairly obvious by this point that the great cat wasn't going to attack, but the wounds on the woman would need to be tended if she was to make it to the city ahead. So at the risk of drawing the cat's ire, The bard stood from his hidden vantage to begin making his way down the steps toward her.<strong>"Get a few bear claws where they don't belong?"</strong>He asked, letting his cloaking over his scent drop as he approached the woman. Knowing if she was as surprised by the cat as he, then his coming must have seemed like another fiasco on to of what she'd already been dealing with.<br/><br/>While Moric seemed fairly ruffed up from his tattered clothing, the slight punctures in his armor, he was no worse for the wear. He had some bruises, but nothing major.<strong>"Markarth is not far now, but I think you may need some bandages if you're gonna make it there. Let me tend your wounds."</strong>He offered, despite the offer being in the form of a statement. He kept a fair distance from her, hand near his axe if the kitty decided to get claws on him, but not drawn as to show no hostility. He'd just escaped a band of hostile foes, he wasn't looking to get in a fight with another one. He hadn't cast a look in the direction of the the other's he heard yet. He figured if they weren't already attacking then they weren't going to. If he had to wager a guess, he'd say the cat's trainer was that direction. The beast obviously having some domestication to it.