The wind blew bitter cold over the north-eastern coast of Solstheim.  Nothing strange there.  It was always cold in this part of Solstheim, but it was better than the interior, where it was choking ash for miles on miles.

               The young Skaal girl wandered amongst the trees and boulders as she often did, despite the protests of her mother.  The girl's mother was always worried that she'd be carried off by the dragons that had returned recently.

               A nearby crash caught the girl's attention and she immediately dropped into a crouch, ready to flee if she needed.  No more sounds followed the crash, so she assumed the coast was clear and ran to the source of the noise, keeping low and quiet like the First Hunter of her village, Wulf Wild-blood, had taught her.

               She came to a clearing and looked out.  Sprawled on the snowy ground was a massive, purple-skinned body, with what seemed like fins on the head.  The mouth, large and grinning, was full of spiky teeth.  A terrifying creature to behold.

               Leaning against a rock on the far side the clearing, another figure was visible.  This one was human-sized, not gigantic like the purple creature.  But it was clearly not human.  A furred face, with a black mohawk and rings in its furred ears.  It looked like some of the mountain cats the girl had seen before.

               However, this cat was wearing armour, white as the snow with maroon markings swirled about.  Beautiful armour.  But who would armour an animal?

               The cat shifted and groaned – can cats groan?  It opened it's eyes, which were white and striking and locked them on the young girl, who backed up nervously in response.  Her dad had always told her that mountain cats were never to be underestimated.

               “Get help," the cat-like creature gasped, looking at the girl desperately.  “Please…this one is…very badly…hurt."

               He coughed and collapsed into the snow, which was turning red around him.  The girl was stunned.  That cat just talked…but cats couldn't talk.

               She straightened her shoulders and ran back to the village.  If it could talk, that meant it could think.  And if it could think, that meant it was a person too.  And if it was a person, there was no way she would leave it lying almost dead in the snow.

               She ran back into the main area of her village.

               “Mama!" she cried.  “Papa!"

               Skaal all over the village turned to look at the girl as she rushed into the village.  They knew her.  They knew she wasn't one to run and panic unduly, so whatever she had to say must be important.

               “Aeta!" a Skaal woman cried out, rushing forwards to embrace the rushing Skaal girl.  “What is it?"

               “A cat mama!" Aeta cried out, pulling free of the embrace.  “It was a cat, but it looked like a man and talked to me!  And it's hurt mama!  We have to go help it!"

               “Where is it, Aeta?" Wulf Wild-born asked, grabbing a bow and rushing over to the girl.  “Where is this cat?"

               “This way!" Aeta said, rushing off into the woods.  Wulf followed right behind, most of the other Skaal grabbing weapons and following him.  They all followed Aeta until they came to the clearing.

               There, they saw the scene just as Aeta had described.  The massive, purple form of a creature unknown was lying on the ground while nearby a cat-like humanoid was lying in a large patch of crimson snow.  They rushed over to the cat and Wulf quickly felt the creature's neck for a pulse.

               “It's alive," he pronounced.  “But not for long.  It needs help.  Let's get it back to Greathall."

               The villagers gently started to shift the cat-creature for transportation when it twitched and jolted upright, eyes wide open.  The Skaal all around jumped back and drew weapons in the same movement.  The cat beheld them all with wide, panicked eyes.

               “Calm," Wulf said, trying to placate the strange creature.  “We're not going to hurt you."

               The creature looked at him and his breathing calmed, eyelids drooping until they closed and he lay his head back down in the snow.  His ragged breathing slowed, indicating he was asleep, probably passed out due to blood loss.

               “Hurry," Wulf said, starting to grab the creature again.  “I don't know how long he has."

               The villagers all worked together, even Aeta, to get the cat up so he wouldn't get hurt further, as his copious wounds already made survival an uncertainty.  They carried him as fast as they could to the Skaal village, where they brought him into Greathall and set him on a thick fur mat on the floor.  Immediately, Storn and the Frea, the shamans of the village, set to work healing the cat, binding wounds.  A few hours later, the cat's survival was no longer in question.  But the question now was, what was this creature?

               “There we go," Storn said, sitting straight and wiping his forehead with a sleeve.  “He'll live through the night."

               “While I'm relieved to hear that," Wulf said.  “I want to know what it is."

               “I'm not sure," the Shaman admitted, looking over at Frea.  “Frea, do you know?  You travel the most."

               “No," Frea answered, with a small shake of her head.  “I have no idea what this thing is.  Maybe the elves would know."

               “Or maybe Tharstan of Solitude," Aeta suggested.

               Everyone stared at Aeta incredulously.

               “How did we not think of that?" Wulf asked.  “Of course, he would know.  He's a scholar.  But he's out with one of my hunting parties on an expedition right now.  He won't be back until tomorrow morning."

“By that time, this thing may already be up," Storn pointed out.  “Tharstan can tell us whether or not it's deadly.  We should keep a watch on it until we know or until Tharstan gets back."

“Good idea," Wulf grunted.  “I'll take first watch.  Frea, you take second.  By that time, it'll probably be morning."

“Alright," Storn said, getting to his feet stiffly.  He walked out of Greathall and back to his hut, the others following suit, leaving Wulf alone with a strange cat-like creature.

When the beautiful sun broke over the horizon, the village was already at work.  The villagers were a hard working tribe, not prone to sleeping in.  Aeta walked over to Greathall, knocked once on the door and entered, carrying the bowl of hot Horker stew.

Frea looked up and smiled at the young Skaal girl.  The future shaman hadn't left the cat-creature's side since she took over from Wulf.  Aside from a few miniscule twitches, the cat had stayed silent and still throughout the entirety of the night.

“Morning Frea," Aeta greeted cheerfully, setting the bowl down beside the elder Skaal.  “How was the night?"

“Not the most eventful," Frea laughed quietly, patting Aeta on the back.  “This thing hasn't woken up once.  Has barely moved as a matter of fact."

“We have no idea what it is," Aeta reflected thoughtfully.  “We don't even know whether it's a boy or a girl."

“Boy," Frea answered, before quickly explaining her reasons.  “Look at the face.  It's, um, clearly a male."

Aeta looked closely, but couldn't tell what Frea saw in it that made it a male.  However, the young Skaal wasn't about to question her shaman.

“Has the hunting party been spotted yet?" Frea asked, changing the conversation path.

“Not yet," Aeta said, looking back at Frea.  It was hard to talk with the shaman when there was this unconscious cat creature in their Greathall.  All Aeta wanted to do was stare at the thing.

“Too bad," Frea commented, picking up the bowl of stew that Aeta had brought for her.  “I was hoping they'd be close to arriving.  I want to know if we can let our guard down around this thing or whether it's still dangerous."

“How could it be dangerous?" Aeta asked, surveying the figure briefly.  “His weapons and armour are in Baldor's house.  He can't hurt us now."

Frea laughed once, before shuffling closer to the figure.  She beckoned Aeta closer to her.

“Here," Frea said, gently taking the cat's palm.  “Look at how dangerous it could be.  See here?  We found these while taking care of it last night."

She lightly squeezed the palm and the cat creature's sizeable claws extended.  Aeta gazed at them with wide eyes.  Those were some nasty claws.

“And that's not all," Frea said, removing pressure from the cat's hand, allowing the claws to retract.  “Check out its teeth.  Aeta, you might have found a huge danger."

Frea pulled back the cat's upper lip, revealing the sharp shapes of deadly predator teeth.  Throughout this entire conversation, the cat didn't move, despite the prodding of Frea.

“Woah," Aeta said, surveying the large teeth.  The teeth were clearly built for the purpose of tearing and cutting, but also seemed to be extraordinarily sharp.  It was odd to the two Skaal.

“What of the rest of him?" Aeta asked, gesturing to the rest of the body, which was still kept beneath the thick fur blanket.  “Any other natural weapons?"

“Strong legs and claws on the toes," Frea shrugged.  “A fast runner and a high jumper.  Probably, assuming how close he is to a cat, he likely has night vision.  So, yeah, a deadly hunter."

“Wonder where he-“

Aeta didn't get to finish her sentence as Storn stuck his head through the door and announced, “the hunting party has returned.  Wulf's just gone to go and get them updated.  Tharstan will be in shortly."

“Thanks father," Frea said.  Storn left again and Frea turned to Aeta with a smile.  The two Skaal waited a while before the scholar entered the room.

“What have you found?" he asked excitedly, rubbing his hands.

“We were hoping you could tell us," Frea answered, chuckling a bit at the eccentric scholar.  No outsiders, aside from the occasional Dunmer, had visited the Skaal village in well over a century.  Tharstan's arrival had come as a surprise and the Skaal had reacted warily, but gradually they'd come to love the old man and help him in his research.

Hence, his most recent expedition with the hunting party.

The scholar walked over and knelt beside the comatose figure.  He gripped it gently under the chin and rotated its head lightly in one direction, then the other.   Then, he walked over and lifted up the far end of the blanket, examining the cat's feet.

“I know what you've found here," he said, setting down the flap of the blanket and turning t o look at Frea and Aeta.  “What you've got is a genuine Khajiit.  They're from the far, far south, down in the desert land of Elsweyr.  This breed is a Cathay, if I'm not mistaken.  Though, I could be, for I never much cared for research into Khajiit."

“Khajiit," Frea repeated, tasting the word.  “Ok, but is it safe?"

“Depends on the individual," Tharstan shrugged.  “I've dealt with a few Khajiit in my time.  A couple merchants, a few beggars.  An assassin and a thief.  I believe the current Archmage of Winterhold is a Khajiit.  I'm surprised to find one this far north.   They usually don't like the cold."

“Why not?" Aeta asked curiously.

“Khajiit, as I've said already, come from the land of Elsweyr.  It's far, far to the south.  And in Elsweyr, the sun roasts the land below.  The sun is so hot, that mile after mile of land is nothing but sand.  And in other places, towering trees dominate, massive jungles.  The air is so thick with heat, that it's like trying to breathe water."

The two Skaal stared at him in disbelief.  They'd only ever known the blistering cold of Solstheim's northern parts.  They could hardly imagine a nation of such heat as Tharstan was describing.

“Anyways," Tharstan said, getting to his feet.  “You've done a good job.  This Khajiit will live and he'll probably be up soon.  And Khajiit eat meat, though not people, unless I'm wrong.  I don't think I am, but…yeah.  Khajiit are usually pretty friendly, though they have an annoying tendency to speak in third person."

With that, he dusted off his pants and hands and left the Greathall.  Aeta and Frea looked at each other, not sure whether to be relieved or more nervous.