You had been chosen by the Night Mother a few months ago, and had already fit into your role nicely. Hearing the contracts that the Night Mother would whisper from her coffin was a bit scary at first, though you got used to it. The steady flow of contracts had slowed significantly this past week, giving you time to go out and continue your other ventures that you rarely had time for. Of course, Cicero had to come with you. Something about 'keeping the Listener out of danger so that he can keep the Night Mother pleased', but you just assumed he was lonely and wanted to travel with you. You had come through Winterhold, a rather cold region (hence the name) in the more Northern region of Skyrim. You were a bit used to the cold climate, but after a while of walking you hear Cicero mumbling to himself from behind you. "Brr... Chilly." He chuckles softly to himself, trying to cover up the fact that he's shivering a bit with his own laughter. He doesn't seem aware that you're even listening to him.