Dark, striped tail twitching slightly, she watched without flinching as the assassin performed her job, silver eyes narrowing further as the coppery scent of blood drifted to her nose. It was a scent she was used too, living as she did, though she'd be lying if she said she liked it any better...
The Khajiit didn't normally stay in inns, preferring instead to stay in a tent outside, away from people. And she would have, but it was bitterly cold outside; too cold for her to stay in a tent. So she sucked it up and paid for a room, hefting her pack further up on her back as she set down ten...