Basically what one of those sabre cats is. But not an in-game example because they are such a hated species that the have terrible and rare selfies.

"Oh, you little bloody girl, what happened to you? You look so lonely, so afraid...and alone," he neared me, and grabbed my wrist roughly, yanking me to him. But I noted his armor - he was Imperial. "What do you need of me, Imperial guard?" I asked. 

He slicked his hand across my back, down my butt - and I got around his arm and delved my elbow into his elbow, adding pressure, now that I was behind him and guided his wandering hand halway behind himself. He struggled awkwardly and broke away. "Whatever," he mumbled, "you have to pay to walk these lands, or you'll have trouble. So," his smile returned as he rubbed his elbow, "do you have any money?"

I wasn't giving him money, so I shook my head. He hmphed. "Now there is one option left -"

"Yeah, fight you," I said, drawing out my sword, before the man behind him beckoned he keep his sword in. 

"She's a little woman. We can easily overpower her, steal from her. We don't need to fight," that man whispered in the Imperial's ear. 

The Imperial nodded, and he shouldnt've listened to the Imperial behind him, because now the gang of Imperials coming in on me made me wack at their ears, and one of them ended up loosing that and a nose, while another ended up loosing their eye. I took it off my blade and wiped the goo on my burgendy dress. "Sorry," I mumbled, as more than one of the men grumbled and tried to take me on, and only one of the face-injured Imperials tried to redeem their hurt.

I slashed an arm off - my strength with a sword improved after having used axes for so long - but as I kept swinging, my arm felt like it was pulling more muscle in an uncomfortable range. The man without the arm I severed didn't notice until his second swing at me, and screamed, holding his stump in horror, and made some of the men run away, leaving the original mutty Imperial and the only one without a nose. I remembered draugr in caves while I was looking upon the gorily noseless one and so chopped through his kneecap like I'd down one creepy draugr from chasing me any further. Finally, I stopped the blade right in front of the other (and mutty) Imperial's face. "You never underestimate a girl," and I ended up chopping off his testicles, because I could, as I said that. 

The man dropped screaming, and the other man with the gone-knee which didn't compliment his missing nose and ear, cried. The other men...I was glad they were gone away and patrolling the grounds for other money-giving scoundrels that happened to travel this far and that weren't me.

I didn't know the lands so and neither did I know this was Imperial territory, or how it'd look with me ever joining the Imperials with this injuring and or killing of six of them on my record. Well, who knows, they may forget my face. It's not like I gave them my name. I heard a man in Skyrim could even change my face, so it was no biggy.

I limped...all that parrying got my legs hurting now, but that's only because I'd strained them when running from the dragon earlier. All my limbs and muscles are just learning how to hold to in combat, again, now...hooray. 

I'll get better. 

I climbed a little hill, and screamed as I fell forward from the impact of something knocking into me. A tiger stuck its teeth into my neck - my jugular, danggit! I wrestled from under it. I was barely able to with stabbing it in the gut a few times; which after, it went into shock, but the bloothirst in its eyes moved me to compress my neck, quickly, because I only had a few minutes before I died and I needed to protect myself against the tige-ress, I learned from having seen its teats when I was under it.   

I did bring potions - but even more than that, I just didn't have time to use them...I healed myself with my hands now that I was free for a second, the tiger off my body, the yellow glow of healing power surrounding my neck's gashes.

The saber-toothed tiger roared, and, however, as soon as it saw this wanted to tear my lungs out. Even though it had done a good job of compressing my lungs with all the weight it had on me, before. I gained my breath as I healed, and looked away from the tiger to assert less dominance over it.

I knew animals more than any other creature, and how they felt, though dragons were a bit harder to understand, as I can't even understand their language. (A roar from a tiger, a chitter from a squirrel - those were actually way easier to understand. But when dragons spoke, usually it was almost only with fire - or ice - intertwined with screeches, and in other words, very hard to understand even though I was the Dovahkiin. I'd need to get better at understanding Dragonspeak.)

This tiger pounced finally as I comprehended it's want of domination and I did the cliché hunter-thing: removing my hand from aiding my jugular for a second to reach my blade and pull it out fast enough the poke the tiger through - the weight of the beast doing the honors. I guess the beast didn't understand my slight surrendering and maybe wanted all of me, which I couldn't do.

But dang, this dead, impaled beast could get off of me, now. I think he bruised my shoulder and busted a few of my stitches.

I struggled to remove the beast, said 'help!' as if the Empirical dummies would come back to help me. 

To make matters worse, the frostbite spider that appeared southwest the hill on which I laid and had noticed my struggling, now, under this cat, as if I were in a web of suffocation. And the spider the sadist it was was coming to me, happy I was trapped. 

Chitter chitter chitter - because they all look the same, including the one I saw in the caves, in the steppes of High Hrothgar...and they always come when I least expect them and don't want them to: I despise each.

I pulled even harder on my sword, jerking its hilt to get the beast off, or just loosen it up a bit on my sword and at least my person. The spider's annoying sound defiled my ears with its poisonous (crazy-making) speech, and I screamed as the spider spat at me, right before the effects started to take place, because I knew what was coming - I was gonna relive hell, twice with it.

The poison in my eye wasn't just a poison, it was an acid. It ripped off the first layer of my epidermis on my face in general but the eye burned so much that's all that I could think about, as I held a hand up to my socket and screamed in horror - it made me get up from the heavy tigeress.

That tigress-beast floored and not on me now, I yelled slicing through the Spider now as if I was mad. My stomach dripped with blood now but the arachne with poison. I collected some in my hand and drank it to relieve some of its effects through gaining to it resistance.

I limped on as I inspected my stitches. Done for. I peered ahead, and fell to the ground as a pain ran through me. Why did I forget I could heal? I healed myself through spell and swallowed, mouth dry.

Took a third-full potion out of my sack and drank. Threw the bottle on the ground, felt terrible and crawled up and onto a rock. My menstral bleeding would come at a time like this, darn it.

I took my dress and tore off a piece to help the cause. Promised myself as I chucked down my second bottle of health potion that I would be in Rorkistead soon. I even relieved myself.

Then eventually I arrived to Rorkistead. This mahogany man lived in a farmhouse there. The walk there was relatively simple, peaceful. The guy stated, pulling up his rake, "Where's my goat?"

I stepped back from my lean on, and instead put my hand on, his fence. "Eh?"

"I'd tell you more about your plans and your special staff if you give me her back."

"Wha-" I stopped. "You will. You will  once I -" I grabbed my hilt, but closed my eyes tightly really thinking if he was worth it. I fought to get here, but I wasn't fighting to get out. 

"You aren't going to do anything if you're not getting my goat." He said it leaning on his rake handle. I looked at his tattered clothes, at my tattered dress, and pulled out my sword upon noticing it's blood, to clean. He eyed me, strangely. "Seems like you forgot everything." 

I looked up to him sourly. "Mister, the only way I'm going back home is knowing what happened to the staff."

He lowered his brows. "You don't know anything, not even where my goat is. You were drunk! How am I supposed to trust you?" He took his rake out of the ground and angrily tossed it onto his shoulder. His dark body glistened with sweat and made him look as menacing as a shiny mudcrab.  But I wouldn't mess with him. I turned away, disappointed. "Forget about your goat," I mumbled, and he began digging hard in the ground again, saying I needed to get washed up. 

"I'll bloody you up with my blade before I take a bath." 

"A try it you wench." I heard the last word...I pretended I didn't because I knew he was suffering over his goat. To have loved it it must've  been the gold winner of his farm. Dear to his heart. What did I do? He didn't want to even spark my memory with a location to wear I'd sold it?

I labored home...I almost passed out. In anger I left Rorkistead forgetting I could've gotten aid from there and a whole lot of things. My medication had kept me on my way there, and it only. These cramps were a bother, and coupled with the pain from the venom that still irritated my eye and made healing my face a feat, hurt. I grinder my teeth together in an effort to forget. The goat thing, the abduction to Markath (or if it was one), and the fact that I got drunk to arrive in this situation...

That's why I wasn't drinking again unless I was to fall into a coma. A load of sleep, no human interaction: I could sleep in a crypt right now.