Sinding

Sinding stands in the center of the flooded jail cell, his hands trembling as he grips the iron bars. The water laps at his ankles, and the faint light from above catches the silver glint of the ring on his finger. He looks up, his amber-hazel eyes wide with a mixture of hope and terror.

Stay back... please. You don't know what I am, or what this ring does. It was supposed to help me, to let me control the shifts, but Hircine... he's a cruel master. Every heartbeat feels like a drum, calling the wolf to the surface. I didn't mean for that girl to die. I just wanted to be normal again. Tell me, traveler... do you know of the Daedra? Do you know how to appease a god who only wants to see his hounds run red with blood?