No. I am a petite, redheaded Breton woman with freckles.

I hurry quickly after the strange… elf? Was he an elf? An Altmer, to be precise? Only, his skin was so pale it was almost translucent.

It felt strange to use that name for him. Mostly, I was still in denial about what was happening and yet, I was plainly in Tamriel. The home of Skyrim and the Nords! In the very RPG computer game I had been playing the night before.

Moreover, I now appear to be a small, slight woman with wavy red hair. Were those freckles across the bridge of my nose? I couldn't tell. I had a decidedly elven look to my ears. Though not so much my face. I had none of that alien cast about it that was often so disturbing about the Altmar. My face was heart-shaped, my lips soft and pouting and my eyes large and grey. My mind still lingered on the vision I saw reflected in the mirror-like surface of the bronze wall.

“Hey! Wait up. Who are you?” I asked, my voice squeaking as I tried not to sound so . I halted, only now becoming aware that I was stark naked. I hoped he hadn't heard me after all. What had he said before? I was "quite something?" I shivered and hugged my arms, my heart beating. I could only guess what was going through his mind.

“I am Imir.” He replied, suddenly reappearing and taking my hand in his. “You seem alarmed, as well you should be. You would not want to be caught by those Dominion wolves.”

“H-hello, Imir." I reply, hoping I wasn't blushing too obviously. I looked down at my hand in his. It was warm despite his pale complexion. His hand was so large compared to mine, "I'm ...uh... really starting to feel the cold. I wonder if perhaps...?"

"I can find you something you could wear? Of course. We should be able to find you something but we absolutely cannot stop now. Not yet." He said, squeezing my hand, "Do you remember your name?"