Editing Openai/6940dc36-f820-8002-8656-3492c2d4fc89 (section)

=== Assistant: Cold water finally gives way to sucking marsh-mud as Uncle Eevee hauls himself onto the Bitter Coast. ===
Cold water finally gives way to sucking marsh-mud as Uncle Eevee hauls himself onto the Bitter Coast. His fur is plastered flat, his armor clinks with trapped seawater, and the air smells of salt, rot, and distant woodsmoke. Jogging inland proves wiser than swimming—Vivec’s cantons loom impossibly far away across the Inner Sea—but night is creeping in, and the holiday season has brought an early chill. Strange lanterns glow here and there along the coast: bug-lamps hung with bits of tinsel and netting, offerings left for spirits both kind and cruel.

After some searching, Uncle Eevee spots a low cave mouth half-hidden by twisted mangrove roots and luminous moss. Icicles of mineral dripstone hang from the ceiling like crude decorations, and someone—perhaps smugglers, perhaps pilgrims—has arranged a few candles and a sprig of holly-like marsh plant near the entrance. The cave smells damp but safe enough, and the ground inside is mercifully dry. From deeper within comes only the slow drip of water and the faint skitter of something small that decides, wisely, to keep its distance.

As Uncle Eevee steps inside, the fatigue of the swim settles into his limbs. Yet there’s a curious calm here. For a moment, he could swear the cave’s shadows take on a soft violet hue, and the water dripping from the ceiling briefly reflects starlight that isn’t there—perhaps Azura acknowledging his earlier prayer, or perhaps just exhaustion playing tricks on a Khajiit’s eyes. Either way, this place will serve as shelter for the night, if he chooses to claim it.

What would Uncle Eevee like to do now?