Into Moonglade...Into the Future

Shari woke early in the morning with a shiver. She reached for a fur skin blanket and opened one eye a slice to peek around the dimness of the hollow. Her forehead furrowed a bit in worry, the fire had not been tended all night and Grozz’s few personal things were gone. The clothes she had left for him were still in the untouched pile he had left them in on the floor before he had gone out into the night air.

As fear slowly woke up within her it clawed eagerly at her heart, toying with her vocal chords so that when she attempted to call his name only a frail squeak came out instead. A hard lump was swallowed back down as she curled into a small ball that made her wince- reminding her of the still healing marks on her back, before gingerlysitting up.

Her long silken teal hair spilled down over her frail naked form in web like sheets. Her ears were strained for the tiniest hint of life other than her in the barrow. For the longest moment all she could hear was the thunderous lonely hammering of her own heartbeat, and then she allowed the feral side of the druid to mask itself over her senses. It was then she picked up on someone elses scent. Someone’s softly raspy breathing.

Stiffening she clutched the blanket between her small breasts not for modesty- but it was as if she were clasping her heart- trying to slow it down. Tilting her head to the side to allow a strand of hair to fall to the side to free up the sight of one eye she swallowed again and managed a timid Darnassian, “Hello?”

“He’s gone Little One. Left late in the night.” Came a gruff, yet gentle Darnassian reply.

It took a few breaths before its owner dawned on her. It was A'rion Forestsong. Krae’sharel’s brother. It had been many, many years since she had heard his voice and many before that when she had become a troll. She wasn’t even aware he had known what she did. Now here he was.

Her eyes darted about the twilight of the cave, breath quickening with wave after wave of mounting emotions. “A'rion?” The name was a timid squeaked whimper ebbed with excitement. Another breath and then her tone became crushed and confused, “He’s…gone? The troll I arrived here with? Y-You don’t mean him…” She was shaking her head a trembling smile on her lips.

The Elder said nothing, he left the silence answer her, and then he shifted in a soft rustle of cloth and leaves indicating he was just outside the doorway, his bulk crouched down in the entirety of the hallway. From her place on the bed nest she could just barely make out the outline of his head and a shoulder. He must have been watching her all night, keeping her safe.

His feral hearing was so keen and sharp…so much so the barest catch of her breath was known to him before the first tear trickled down her cheek. She sobbed quietly for a time holding herself, shaking her head confused. With a loud snuffle she choked out her words, “What did I do wrong?”

A'rion’s stoic features and emotions were lost to her, everything cloaked in shadows of ambiguity. His large calloused hand twisted upon his wooden staff that he had laid across his lap. When he spoke his voice was soft and gentle, the words reaching across the distance between them to caress her and brush at the tears, “Nothing. Last night I spoke with him, and I told him what he needed to know about you.”

There was a sharp intake of breath and Shari began to bristle- she was both afraid and enraged at the same time. She twisted more toward the doorway and winced as her scabbing wound cracked open again. Hissing through the pain she blinked through the tears in her eyes and cried imploringly, “Why? Why A'rion would you d-do that? W-What did you say to him? W-What did he s-say?”

Again the silence was somehow soothing to her, just his presence alone changed the very air in the room. How long had it been exactly since she had seen him? She knew whatever had been said must have been needed to be said… Certainly she had planned to tell Grozz herself…in time when it felt right. It was something she was dreadfully terrified of. That weight now was off her shoulders, the elder druid had taken care of that for her. “What did he say” she tried again, this time the tension melted from her voice replaced now with a broken heart.

Her large doe eyes peered about the room as her lower lip continued to tremble over her trollish tusks. The silence was her answer. She didn’t need to know what his exact words were… his actions spoke more volumes then they ever could. Her head bowed and her features were lost in a wave of hair. The sigh she released came from the very inner tips of her toes and she deflated two whole inches as her shoulders slumped. He wasn’t able to accept her. He didn’t want her. He had left her without a word.

Without a word, and seemingly suddenly, a large rough hand with a small black vine tattoo was placed on her thin back. She squeaked a breath of alarm and sat up straight but then relaxed again instantly. His musky male Kaldorei woodland scent filled her senses and almost made her swoon. His hand took up the entire span of her back without even barely a fan of his fingers. The touch was very soft, as if he were touching something of fine paper thin crystal. He slid all her hair over her shoulder and stared at the cracked and freshly bleeding mark of a dire bear. What felt like an eternity passed.

“There is healing ointment there…” her fingertips fluttered vaguely in the air beside the bed, “It is s-supposed to help heal it.” Her voice was a whisper. It seemed somehow impossible that the last time he had touched her was once after the fire…almost a hundred years ago now.

A low growl startled her and made her shiver. “You will not be keeping this mark.”

She bowed her head again and closed her eyes. That mark had meant so much to her. The memories of how she got it, of how impossibly sweet the big burly Zandalari Troll had been in nursing her back to health after she got it…it had meant he wanted her. That she was his….but now. Through blurred vision she stared down at her burn scarred hands and forearms. Some memories were meant to hold onto.

“Yes Sir.”

A'rion could probably count on one hand how many times he had stepped so far outside his feral mind to heal. He grunted at her response. In reply his hand began to heat up and glow green. He placed his fingers over each claw mark easily and with a clenched jaw slowly drew his magic down over the wound, washing it away, bringing the pain of it into his own being, the weight of it onto his own shoulders.

Tears of mixed emotions ran freely down Shari’s cheeks. She could not see his face physically, but in her minds eye she saw much more than she ever truly wanted to. The same expression he wore when Krae’sharel had claimed her, the same expression the day of the fire.

As the physical pain soon vanished, replaced only by the lingering heat of his hand he rose his fingertips from her now smooth flesh, back to the top of her shoulders and stopped…hovering a breath away from her skin. The vine stared back at him and a mute snarl tugged at his lip. In the next instant he was moving back to the doorway. Only this time Shari caught him. Her little hand had managed to catch the sleeve of his robe. It force was as much as it would take to hold a sheet of tissue paper yet it locked A'rion in place as if she had just thrown irons upon him.

They both kept their eyes downcast. Shari was still nude before him, one side of her body now covered by her long wavy hair.

The air hung thick between them for what seemed like hours when in fact it was only seconds, “Thank you…” she whispered.

“You should bathe, Shari’Adune. Time to start fresh again. Elune keep you safe.”

She blinked. It dawned on her in that second how she must smell… still thick with the male troll’s musk. How hard it must have been on La- he was gone. Her hand hung in the air still as if still clutching his robe. With a sob it fell back into her lap. He was right. It was time to move on.