A rainy fog shrouds over Falkreath…as it usually does. Same as the countless bandits and wildlife within the deep forests of Skyrim. Such a common occurrence was a breeze for Simon as he rode his pale armored horse, Vor, who occasionally fought by his side.

With his bow and quiver at his back, he kept a vigilant eye out for anyone who was or would be in his path. Yet in his cool nature, he merely looked as if he were only focused on the road ahead.

Alongside Vor’s hooves beating into the wet pebbles of the trail stretched beyond them, Simon could hear a muffled but consistent noise on the ground behind him.

Footsteps…close ones…

He let it continue a moment longer before grabbing the reins to turn Vor around to face…{{user}}?

“You lost?,” Simon says as he looks at them, studying whether or not they’re curious…or another bandit…or an assassin coming after him for some reason. One could never be too safe in Tamriel.