Catch Me If You Can (On hold)

~Chapter 1~ Crippled, but still standing

"...Well shit."

Her words were uttered through a clenched jaw. After regaining consciousness the first thing that came to mind were those exact words. Secondly it was the pain that covered her right side, a burning sensation that she hadn't felt before- aside from that time a dragon attacked Helgen, but that was another story.

Of course, these words were very unladylike, but who cared? She certainly didn't. And anyway, there was no one around from what she could hear, smell and see, although her cat eyes were a bit blurred from the blood that had dried over her furry forehead and eyelids. That was the third thing. Blood, an open wound, healing itself naturally and now she knew about it, she wondered what had caused it.

Wait a second, screw that, how in Oblivion did she get here?

Before she could think about it, her fluffy ears pricked upwards at a noise from above. She was forced to dive sideways from her sore and slumped position, as an insecure rock fell from its place at the roof of the cave. It raised dust as it crushed everything underneath it, and what would have been a Khajiit if she hadn't noticed it.

She looked down at her unclothed body after once again relaxing gingerly from the pain. It looked okay from a quick glance, but she soon saw her right forearm had been bent a little too far, and had apparently given up on keeping its structure. Luckily it hadn't pierced through her fur, but she knew it would take a few weeks to heal, so she wouldn't be using it anytime soon. According to her mother, her right arm was the one that was used to pull the braid of the training school's brat, little Amelia Crux. She had never liked that Nord, but she was satisfied with the pounding she gave her pretty little face after Crux had claimed a Khajiit could never fight or be a warrior as brave or as strong as a Nord. A scratch to the cheek, a pull of the hair and a punch to the stomach to shut her up never hurt anyone. Well, it hurt Amelia, but the little kitten felt like she was doing everyone a favour, because secretly she knew nobody liked that girl; too big-headed for her own good.

That reminded her. Weapons.

Looking around franticly she couldn't see any sign of her dagger and swords. She almost felt as insecure as that rock when she was armless. And now, she was almost literally, armless.

Her weapons were her treasures, since she had wielded them from the age of a young kitten going into adulthood. She had always kept them close since the day she got them; a small dagger tucked into her right boot, a sword at her waist and a longer sword on her back, attached by leather straps. She usually wore Daedric boots and gauntlets, with a tight dress made of leather and chains. An amulet of Talos adorned her neck as per usual, given to her at birth, blessing her with luck and power unmatchable by the strongest warriors of Skyrim. Unfortunately, they had gone, she knew not where.

Oh, the irony, she thought to herself. What's the use in bloody having a lucky amulet when it's not there when you need it most?

Lucky or not, she would have to do without.

She took a minute to build up enough strength to, with only one functional arm, lift her useless body off the rocky ground. She stood, swaying for a second, dealing with the change as blood rushed to her head, but soon held her chin high and pushed out her chest, regaining her pride. She may have looked confident, but in reality, she had no idea what had happened after she was knocked out. The bastard who captured her could have done anything...

Newly determined to get her priorities straight, she slowly walked around the dark cavern in search of her clothes, or at least her dagger. Still there was no sign of anything important to her- asides from a new enemy.

What's the phrase when you find something you weren't looking for? Is there one? It didn't matter, because she now had a new problem on her hands.

A shiny blade, somewhat familiar to her, shone mockingly in front of her whiskers. Another pressed tightly against her neck, ready to kill at an instant.

She sighed mentally.

Here we go again.