10th of First Seed

I had heard tales that Skyrim was a beautifully cold and dangerous place. When they came and destroyed our village― our ancestry,  I had no choice but to flee into the Nordic motherland. It wouldn't be until I reached the mountains where we planned to meet up with the others did I realize I was alone from here on forth. I travelled west, to where the stories of my people had guided me. I am unsure as to what exactly I will find there, but too many thoughts excite my preservation to continue. I need to consciously remind myself to stop and rest, or else I will find myself getting hurt. I had stopped by a stream, where I eventually set up camp and was able to rest my weary feet. I wasn't far, nature around me gives me signs that I am close to a path my ancestors once walked upon many years ago. What would it be like, to see another member of the Order? To meet one of my people? Will they welcome me back? Or has the fates been unfavourable and I will be shown nothing? Tomorrow I continue my journey. May the warm winds guide me.