Cub's head pounded as he made his way from Marion's camp, his hammer and Hravlar's staff in hand. As he marched south toward the sea in search of this "Moon Shadow" he struggled to make sense of his thoughts; constantly knitting and unbinding them to find some consistent thread among them. Only the sound of his own gears whirring kept him company, the sounds of battle had subsided, replaced with the regrettable coo of negotiation and Shavie's measured steps beside him mirroring his own.

The sun still hung high above the strange land to which Cub had awoken mere hours before to the siren song of the Silver Dagger and his new Patron. Like so many times before Cub simply accepted his change in scenery, the shuffle of days and nights around him as the winds of fate strung him along its sordid machinations. He did as he was told and things had always worked out, the weak obey the strong and are so made strong for it, is the way of things...then why did everything seem to be falling apart?

It had been over half a year since he left the wreckage of Windhelm and crossed a dying Skyrim yet still he'd not found Zhaveed. He'd not learned anything of the threat they faced though it burned Rihad simply to find him; there was no progress, only fire and death. Sevari had fled, Marassa traveled in circles, Hravlar was captured as well as Cub; without Zhaveed to lead them, they were helpless.

Cub stopped and turned to Shavie though if it ever was more than simply a name he'd never know as now the beast of burden showed no emotion, only stoic obedience. As it should. A mule is a simple creature made strong and useful by its labor, without purpose, without a caring owner it would be prey to quicker predators, smarter creatures of better design.

"You understand Shavie. Some are born prey and some are born predator. The weak serve the strong, whether in life or death, and they are made stronger for it..." Cub felt he finally found a twine he could follow to the heart of his own thoughts. "...Because those left behind were stronger than those weeded out...if Malacath has chosen me, it means...it means he thinks I can become strong. I can become a predator!" Cub spoke excitedly to the mute creature, the Dagger resting silently in its saddle bag. "If I find this Moon Shadow he will take me to Zhaveed and we will hunt those who hound us. Prey becomes predator...it all make sense now!"

From some distance away Cub heard a familiar voice. "I should have guessed you would have survived; no sword in Hammerfell could pierce that thick fat of yours!" The voice chuckled briefly then choked on a wince of pain. "Over here, behind the rock only slightly larger and dumber than you."

Cub moved closer to where the voice originated, a giant boulder weathered and beaten by the desert sands, hiding a wounded Redguard, his midsection sporting a deep gash and his once handsome face bruised and broken. "You're that damned javelin thrower!" Cub exclaimed, still frantic from his revelation as what might be mistaken for a smile, had it not been so gnarled, crossed the man's face.

"Always nice when my work proceeds me. Yes, it is I, Nazir, lover of women and taker of lives. We never officially met, you were far too winded for introductions if I recall." His pain was well masked behind flourish but Cub could tell from the amount of blood coating his garb his bravado was just that.

Cub remembered clearly how the nimble man had tired him despite his incredible endurance. Had he really been toying with him the whole time? Best not to think about it right now. Cub inspected the cut the Redguard clung to, no doubt trying to keep sand out until help arrived. "Looks more like taker of sword strikes to me; what happened? Can you walk?" Cub holstered his hammer and slid Hravlar's staff into Shavie's pack. "Hold on, this'll probably hurt."

Cub lifted his one time foe as gingerly as he could muster from the desert floor. Even so, the Redguard's bravado slipped momentarily as he brushed against the Dwarven Centurion Cuirass. "You're light as a feather!" Cub exclaimed. "That's why you were so fast when we fought, isn't it?

Nazir's grimace slowly returned to a broken smile as Cub situated him to a more comfortable position. "As perceptive as ever my fat friend." Nazir showed a toothy grin. " One must be quick in our line of work. Believe it or not, some people don't take as kindly to our 'steal from the rich, give to the poor' banditry as others. Unfortunately, those people usually have enough left in their pockets to hire head hunters which is exactly what brings us here now." Nazir smirked at Cub's furrowed brow. "Best not think about it to hard, you might hurt yourself. Bad people come to hurt. Nazir hide behind rock. You find Nazir. Underst-OWWWW!"

Nazir landed with a yelp and all around him sand puffed and fell. "What the hell do you thi-"

"You hid?" Cub's voice was shaky as he towered over the man.

"I, what? What? Of course I hid, look at me you dumb ox! I'm covered in blo-"

"You hid. They came and you hid. You hid. You hid." Cub's voice began stronger as his mantra's rhythm picked up. "You hid. You hid. You hid." Cub's eyes narrowed on the pitiful creature before him, Nazir trying desperately to squirm and writhe away. "You hid. You hid. You hid. You hid. You hid." Cub unsheathed his hammer once more and held it high above him. "Prey becomes predator."

- - - - -

A single javelin sailed toward the gathered party landing a few feet away and startling the lot of them. All eyes, Marion, Marassa, Burkswallow and Harding's boarding party darted to the figure cresting the hill from whence the projectile flew.

Cub and Shavie approached the stunned masses in silence, his eyes locked to Marion's as he approached. Towering over all but his fellow Orc, Cub cut an imposing outline as he knelt to lay the sling of javelins at her feet before returning to his full height. Eyes still locked with hers, Cub broke the fragile silence. "I found him bleeding out behind a rock. It was quick."

In somber silence, Shavie stood beside the near javelin embedded in the soil from Cub's herculean throw before following Cub as they both took their place beside Marassa, only then noticing the Breton to which she spoke. Without a second thought, Cub turned to the newcomer.

"Are you the Moon Shadow?"