Site Write 2, Entry 20- Possibility

There was a pleasant breeze in the evening air as Celessarae Moonfang stood amidst the trees. She could hear it rustling through leaves that would one day soon begin their change from summer to fall colors, the sound a soothing sensation to ease the troubles of her mind. She'd come to the Moonglade in a bit of desperation, but the natural peace of the place eased her mind even as the worries remained in the background.

It was taking too long. The thought ran over and over in her mind as she paced in the small clearing amongst the trees. Her leather armor creaked as she bent over, reaching out to inspect the branch of a small bush that was growing from the forest floor. Her long blue hair fell around her face, the feathers tied there blowing in the warm breeze as she sent a little spark of magic in the branch, fortifying the young plant for the difficult winter season ahead.

It is a simple decision; a yes or no answer really. Why is it taking so long?

Normally able to keep herself calm and orderly, it was difficult for Celessarae to stop worrying over what was to come. The future branched out in many directions, and this meeting would determine which of the many branches she would follow in her life's course. It was as important as could be, and she couldn't help but wonder if she'd made a mistake in coming here.

As she thought this, she heard the rustling of cloth behind her, and she straightened herself upright, taking a deep breath to keep calm herself and settling a serene mask over her face. She turned, her silver eyes taking in the elderly Kaldorei that was now waiting for her at the edge of the clearing. He smiled at her, his amber eyes giving away little of his thoughts as he beckoned for her to follow him before turning and walking away. Taken by surprise, Celessare moved quickly to walk beside the other Kaldorei on a path through the forest, listening intently as he began to talk.

"I have given much thought to your request, Celessarae," he said in a mild tone. "Myself and the others were much grieved when we heard of the passing of your Shan'do, and I understand the great difficulties you have faced both with that event and with your past."

Celessarae said nothing, merely keeping pace with the other elf and keeping her thoughts to herself. That her Shan'do had been killed by the orcs was common knowledge; the rest of her life's story was written as plain as moonlight on the scars that trailed up her left arm. The elder druids knew why she had come to them, and how inexperienced she was in their arts. None of that needed repeating and she wondered why it was being brought up now, given why she was there.

The other elf continued walking, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, "Such a past can color the future and can shape what you will become to some degree. Like it or not, the darkness we are dealt can dictate our path just as easily as the joyous moments. Tell me, my young friend, what do you think your future looks like? What path do you see yourself walking?"

Celessarae said nothing for a time, merely walking beside the elf, deep in thought. She was not one to jump to an answer quickly, and preferred instead to contemplate such questions thoroughly before forming an opinion. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, she answered, satisfied with the words, "I wish to become a great healer. I wish to excel in such arts so that I can aid others who have fallen as I was once aided myself. I see myself becoming this in time, and paying back the land and my people for what they have done for me when I could not fend for myself."

The other druid smiled, nodding as she spoke, glancing at her and studying the red-hued butterfly markings on her face, "That is a good answer, a fine answer indeed. Let me ask you another question though; what of those who harmed you? What of the orcs then?"

Celessarae stopped walking for a moment, pausing on the trail, her face hardening and a touch of hatred in her eyes, "What of them? They should be exterminated for all I care. All they do is burn and pillage the land and bring ruin to everyone and everything unfortunate enough to get in their path."

The other druid paused, turning to look at her, a bit of sadness in his eyes as he continued to study her. He spoke softly, his tone firm but not mocking, "And therein lies the problem, young one. For how can you heal with the one hand, but with the other wish to smite an entire race from existence? How can you balance the desire to mend with the raging desire to destroy? It is not wrong to feel as you do, and many would feel the same in your place given what you've been through, but do you see the conflict inherent in your answers?"

Celessarae nodded, bowing her head and looking away from the elder druid, "I do. I understand what you're saying. It is difficult to overcome such feelings though."

He stepped towards her, taking her hands in his and smiling at her. She looked up at him and there was no anger or disappointment on his face, only a look of understanding. "In time, you will overcome bitterness as you have overcome many other things. There are many orcs who deserve the justice you wish to see inflicted upon them, but like any other creature there are differences between each of them. Not all bears will put their claws to your flesh and even the most timid deer may rake you with its antlers. It is in discovering the ability to see these differences that you will gain wisdom and become a truly great healer. Until you are able to see that more clearly however, I cannot be your Shan'do. My days of warring and adventure are long behind me now, and I am not the right teacher for you. Do you understand?"

Celessarae could feel despair threatening to reach up and strangle her heart as she nodded slowly. She managed to keep her expression neutral as he released her hands, dipping her head in respect towards him. Within, she chastised herself for being unworthy, for failing to meet up to expectations. It took a great effort of will to push the emotions back down into the black pit that they often tried to slither out of in her mind.

She offered the other elf a bow before turning and striding back up the path, the natural sounds of the forest doing little to quell the self-recriminations that ran through her mind. In time she knew she would silence the thoughts, just as she would overcome the massive obstacles that she would face in becoming a better druid and healer. Like everything, it would be a struggle, but one that she would not give up on. There would be others who could teach her, who could be a Shan'do. She would seek them out and learn, and perhaps in time she would make herself worthy in the eyes of the rest of the Circle.

It was just so very hard to move forward when the greatest thing holding you back was yourself.

Heart of the Storm

The sky crackled with the distant sound of thunder, the heavy rainclouds closing in over the forests of Ashenvale. Although the storm was still a way off, the tension of it could be felt in the air like some unknown threat lurking around the bend. In the small Kaldorei camp, Celessarae sighed, shifting in position on the log she sat on to grasp the handle of her mug more tightly.

Storms always brought on the aches. There was no way around it. It was like her arm had become a weather-vane, pulsing with agony that quickened in pace as the storm rode in. The druidess sighed again, sipping the hot herbal tea in her mug as she stared into the fire. The special mix would soothe some of the ache, but in weather like this it would never completely quell it. She set the mug down, running her right hand up and down her left arm in an attempt to massage the nagging ailment away.

The rest of the camp was quiet with most of the Kaldorei sleeping under light blankets on the ground. In the center of the small clearing a campfire had been prepared to cook the day's meal. It was mid-morning, and most of the Sentinels were resting as they readied themselves for another evening of skirmishes with the orc scouts that were pushing deeper into the forest.

Celessarae sat quietly, her eyes roaming over the encampment and studying those with her. Although no longer a Sentinel herself, her experience amongst them allowed her to pick out weaknesses in the defenses. The unit she was traveling with was made up of raw recruits who had only just completed their training, and it showed in the laxness with which they attended to guard duty. The druidess would have assigned far more of the capable fighters as sentries, but it was no longer her place to advise such things. It didn't matter anyway; the others might be sleeping during the daylight hours, but she rarely slept more than a few hours, her dreams always disjointed and disturbing. She preferred the silence of the sleeping camp and the privacy of her thoughts.

Celessarae's gaze roamed back towards the center of the camp, her silver eyes studying the forms sleeping closest to the fire. There amongst the sentinels were a few who had been assigned to ascertain what damage the orcs had done in their most recent incursion; three other young druids that were learning the ways of their elders as Celessarae herself was. Tucked beneath their fur blankets, they slept peacefully, as distant from her in that moment as when they were when awake. She gave a half-smile as she saw a pair of them snuggled together beneath the same blanket; it would be many more years before she managed to feel as relaxed and content as the two looked together, but that was the entire point of endeavoring to learn druidism anyway.

Even as the thought passed through her mind, the serenity of the overcast morning was shattered by a distant scream. It rose up from the forest, the sound of a male Kaldorei in anguish. Celessarae's eyes shot up and stared into the thick foliage, her ears perked to listen intently to the sound. Around her, the camp stirred, Sentinels awakening from their slumber in an instant, glaives in hand and bowstrings taut.

The sound faded off, only to rise up again a moment later. Celessarae rose from the log upon which she'd been sitting, striding quickly through the camp to where the leader of the Sentinels was issuing orders.

“I want four scouts out around that rise to the north immediately,” the Captain said as the druidess approached. “The rest of the camp is to be secured until we can determine what befell our observers.”

Celessarae stood patiently, allowing the elf to bark out the rest of her orders, watching her intently as was her habit. The Sentinel Captain looked calm and organized; exactly the traits one would want in a leader. She would forge the newer Sentinels into formidable opponents with a bit more time. The druidess only prayed she had that time.

When the elf turned, Celessarae dipped her head and addressed her directly, “Captain, our Shan'do is out there along with your scouts. He is the only male in this group not accounted for. That has to be him.”

The distant screams rose up again, and both elves fell silent as they listened with grim expressions on their faces, “I know druidess. My scouts will find out soon enough what has befallen them and then we'll-”

Her words were cut off as a Sentinel hurried into the middle of the camp, making a beeline towards the Captain, “Orcs! It looks as if they slaughtered the party we sent out to survey the damage to the forest and they have captured the druid. One of the scouts took an arrow to the arm and she's fallen back and is circling around our camp. I think it's an ambush!”

The Sentinel Captain frowned at the news, shaking her head slowly. She paused, weighing the situation in her mind, “Strike the camp. We need to move to more defensible ground. I can't lead this group into an ambush and heavy battle; we've neither the equipment for protracted combat nor the experience. Once we've secured our lines we'll send a message to the others nearby and mount an assault on their lumber crews and forward scouts.”

Several of the Sentinels nodded their understanding before springing into action. In moments the camp went from tense to a tide of organized chaos as the sentinels quickly picked up their gear, doused the campfire, and faded into the forest around them. As the Captain turned to organize her Sentinels, a pale hand gripped her arm. She glanced back to see the young druidess looking at her sternly.

“My Shan'do is in the clutches of orcs, Captain,” Celessarae said quietly. Behind her the other druids that had joined the Sentinel group gathered, speaking softly amongst themselves until hearing Celessarae and falling silent.

“I know, Druidess,” The Captain replied. “We will look for him once we've secured our lines. The orcs want us to rush into the midst of their forces so they can cut us down. I am doing what needs to be done for all of us here.”

Celessarae took in the words, her face an expressionless mask behind the red-hued butterfly markings she bore. After a moment she spoke softly, her musical voice containing no hint of anger in it, “That is not sufficient. I won't leave him for the orcs to toy with. I...know what they are capable of. No one deserves that.”

“Druidess...” the Captain began. Her words faltered as Celessarae's face began to morph and elongate. Within the blink of an eye the Kaldorei had dropped to all fours, a sleek black cat taking her place. The speed with which she changed was impressive, and the form had with it none of the aches and pains that the weather had brought on.

Without another word the cat turned, trotting off into the forest.

******************************************

She ran through the forest now, unimpeded by the terrain, her aches, or even her own doubts. As a cat she had a natural urge to run beneath the trees, using the shadows to hide her from the eyes of her prey until the last moment. Her nose pressed forward, taking in the scent of the forest around her and the sickly smell of oil, metal, and blood that the orcs carried on them in the distance. They were hiding amongst the dense foliage, but it meant nothing to her now; they might as well have been standing in the middle of a clearing for all their skulking would do.

She passed the first of them quickly, ignoring them and keeping low to the ground. They heard and saw nothing, her body just a passing breeze as she made her way towards the screams that grew ever louder. A deep determination filled her now to rescue her Shan'do and pay back the creatures that were taking yet another thing from her.

She passed more orcs amongst the trees, their forms hunched down as if the plants would ever truly disguise their grotesque nature. It made her sick to think of them defiling more of her beloved forest but it was not something to dwell on as she ran. She had a mission first; the orcs could be dealt with later. Even as she thought this, Celessarae came upon a clearing where the orcs had dragged their captive.

There was a lot of blood. Much of it was from the slaughtered Sentinels that lay lifeless at the edge of the clearing. Even so, the male Kaldorei laying on the ground was covered with it as well, his body pinned to the forest floor by means of a sword that punctured his abdomen. Shallow cuts ran along his bare upper body, the purple-tinted blood running down and soaking the ground. Above him a rather vile looking orc stood, dagger in hand as he almost playfully cut the druid again. Another howl cut through the silent forest.

“Either they come for you, or you die,” the orc growled in broken Darnassian. It was clear that he was trained in the art of torture, for beyond the daggers clipped to his belt and held in his hand he also had an assortment of chains and whips on his person. One glance was enough for Celessarae to know that he needed to die immediately.

The orc grinned, bringing his dagger up and preparing to drive it into the Kaldorei's arm. Even as his blade descended, a heavy black cat slammed into him from behind, driving him forward and into the dirt. Celessarae landed atop her prey, her long fangs biting deep into his neck and locking into place. Although he tried to dislodge her, the loss of blood and suffocating jaws on his throat quickly silenced him and he grew still beneath her.

She had little time now and she knew it. The kill had been quick and quiet, but the screams had also faded and the other orcs would know. With a faint glimmer she shifted, her elven form stepping lightly over the dead orc and kneeling beside the wounded druid on the ground. He looked up at her through glassy eyes, shuddering with the pain.

“Shan'do,” she whispered quietly. Although the elf had trained her for only a short time, she had come to respect him greatly. He would not be the first of her teachers nor the last, but the moment would remain in her mind forever. Gently she reached out, gripping the sword that pinned him tightly. “Forgive me Shan'do.”

With a quick lurch she yanked the sword free. The druid gasped in agony, and Celessarae murmured quietly, sending a rejuvenation spell into the critically wounded elf. She was still inexperienced with healing magic, but it was enough to soothe his pain at least. A small blessing, but worth the delay.

He smiled at her, reaching up and placing a hand on her arm, “Thero'shan. Somehow I knew it would be you that would come to find me. I fear that you've come too late however, and our time together draws to a close.”

Celessarae's normally composed features broke into a frown and she quickly shook her head. The druid forestalled anything she might say by speaking again, his voice weak and broken, “It is true I'm afraid. I should have paid more attention to the knowledge I already possessed and watched for danger. My body...it is broken, and I will not leave this clearing. Go, before it is too late. Know that I am proud of you, and that you will grow much with your learning. Go and find another to teach you.”

“N-no. No! I will get you to safety,” Celessarae said, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. Her words reached only the emptiness around her though, the elf laying before her so very still now. She could see his chest rising and falling slowly, but it was so weak; he had only a few more minutes unless she could get help. In desperation, she grabbed his arm, heaving to pull him into a sitting position, hoping to carry him to safety. A stab of agony shot up her left arm; a cruel reminder of her own treatment at the hands of the orcs. She fell backwards, landing on her rump as her Shan'do sighed quietly, slipping away before she could even think of the rudimentary spells she had to heal him.

In the distance, a stick snapped as an orc approached the edge of the clearing to investigate why the screaming had died down. Celessarae ignored the sound, sitting quietly in the soil, staring at the dead Kaldorei sadly. She had lost another connection, another attempt at a future. Only this time she had also gained something. She was not the same broken Sentinel that had first begun to learn druidism. The urge to grow, to learn and fight, had never flowed so strongly within her. It mingled with the primal fury and rage that the orcs instilled in her, that ran through her very blood, and made her heart pound with it.

Another stick snapped as she rose silently, silver eyes scanning the clearing around her. The silhouettes of orcs appeared as they surrounded her, first three, then four then eight of them, all with weapons drawn, each of them stepping into the clearing with a grin on their face. Here there was another elf to torture, another victim to add to the growing pile of bodies the lumber crew had racked up.

In the distance thunder rumbled, the sky's gray vastness framing the clearing as the orcs stepped closer. Celessarae was motionless for the longest time, only her ears flicking as she listened to where they were around her, visualizing the position of each in her mind.

And then the storm began.

Rain began to fall even as the first orc moved towards her. Amongst the gloom and falling water a shaft of moonlight descended, illuminating her blue hair like a halo on her head. Her astral form glowed as she brought her hands up, moonlight flowing in her hands. She was no Sentinel now, but there were other ways to fight, other ways she could be of use.

The first orc learned this as moonlight lanced down more brightly from above him, the searing hot white magic of her power cutting into his flesh. The rest of the orcs lurched towards her even as her hands came down, a burning shaft of pure sunlight setting another of the orcs alight. She murmured as she conjured her magic, the sound almost a song amongst the falling rain. The gloom contrasted sharply with the light of the moon and sun, the glowing energy sparkling as it struck falling drops of water.

One of the orcs behind her threw an ax, the deadly weapon spinning end over end as it hurtled towards her head. In an instant Celessarae was a cat once more, her lithe form slipping beneath the arc of the weapon and a claw swiping at the leg of an orc as she darted out of the circle they had made.

Orcs howled and turned to pursue her, only to find themselves facing the Kaldorei once again in her elven form, her features crumpled into a mask of hatred. She brought a hand up and crooked a finger and instantly vines began to wrap around the ankles of the closest orc, dragging him to the ground. His companions trampled him, eager to slaughter the nuisance. Instead they found only the wrathful glare of the sun as its light hurtled towards them.

Orcs tumbled backwards as the magic struck, howls echoing through the forest as they were burned alive by the searing energy. Around Celessarae the moonlight continued to glimmer; the power her Shan'do had taught her to harness soothing her even as it slaughtered her enemies. Another orc brought his ax up only to find the Druidess extending her hands towards him, a surge of starlight slamming into his chest and searing his armor away.

It continued on this way, the movements of her foes a blur to Celessarae as she dodged and sang and hurled her magic. Her form shifted constantly, like the flowing water that fell from the sky to bathe the battlefield. She was bathed in moonlight when her foes were far; a slinking cat when they were near, her agility allowing her to dodge free of them and slip behind them to wreak havoc once more.

After a time, the forest fell silent, with only the rain pattering down to make a sound. Celessarae stood motionless in the now muddy and blood-spattered clearing, her hair wetly clinging to her face as she surveyed the scene. Around her all of her foes had fallen, their bodies laying in the mud and joining the Kaldorei that they had slaughtered earlier. In the distance orcish war horns rose up as Kaldorei hunting horns sounded. It was clear that the Sentinels had found defensible ground and even now were engaging in battle with an enemy that would be missing a few of its soldiers.

In that moment of clarity, standing amongst the bodies of her allies and enemies alike, a sense of peace fell over the former Sentinel-turned Druidess. In that moment, Celessarae felt the soothing calm that came when the heart of a storm passes overhead, and she realized that the words of her Shan'do were true. She WOULD grow, she would learn more about the world and how to make herself a useful part of it. She would bring balance back to the forests and protect the lands of her people from those who would defile it.

Despite all she had lost, both in that moment and in previous battles and disasters, she would always have the forest. She would always have the moonlight that flowed down on her even now. She would always have Elune to guide her. She would heal and harm, as nature needed her to do. For her people, for herself.

Celessarae Moonfang finally understood her destiny.

Beneath the Boughs

Beckyann's heavy plate armor pushed down into the soft forest floor, snapping the occasional branch with enough force to make the sound echo and cause her to wince. Although the tall trees and lush foliage of Ashenvale deadened the sounds, any noise was unacceptable given recent encounters.

The death knight smirked, flicking her runeblade and spattering some of the nearby plants with orc blood. She'd run into not one, but two small patrols of orc scouts so far. They were preparing a new offensive or perhaps mapping out a new area to begin logging operations; either way it didn't matter to her and they were quite dead now, an added bonus on this little excursion.

She had set out to collect some herbs that grew only beneath the shade afforded by Ashenvale's massive trees. Sunlight only filtered down in beams here and there, diffused beneath the canopy and making the perfect growing conditions for certain plants; precisely what she was looking for. Once collected, the herbs and a few other spell components would be mixed and used in some experiments she was preparing that were related to regeneration of undead flesh.

Another stick snapped beneath her boots and she snarled; if she kept making noise she was bound to bring another orc war-party down on her and she had other business to attend to at the moment. Even as she thought this, she entered a small clearing, sunlight dancing down in a beam from far above. Something felt out of place, and she paused, scanning the scenery.

At first she saw nothing, slowly turning in a circle, her runeblade extended before her. She listened, straining her senses as far as they could, attempting to detect whatever it was that had set off her combat alertness. Despite her efforts, nothing seemed amiss and with the abundance of life surrounding her in the forest it was hard to separate a potential threat from the scenery. As she was just about to relax, her gaze roamed over a deeper patch of shadows amongst some fallen boughs and it was there that she saw what had alerted her.

Two golden feline eyes stared at her warily from the shadows.

Had she been alive, Beckyann would have gasped at the discovery. The creature was so silent and still that she would have believed it to be undead if she had not known better. Her runeblade came up ever so slowly, pointed at the shadows. Wild animals roamed the forests and it would not be surprising to have a large hunting cat attack a lone traveler.

A soft sigh of breeze made Beckyann turn her head slightly to the right to check for other foes. The movement was just a fraction of a second, but in the time she took her eyes from the shadows to when she returned her gaze there, the feline eyes had disappeared. She blinked once in surprise; the beast was quick.

Perhaps it was the sudden change in air pressure, or maybe a whisper of sound, but something made Beckyann jump and she whirled, blade up and pointed behind her. Where there had been empty clearing behind her now stood a Kaldorei with a staff. She leaned against the support, watching Beckyann with perfect stillness.

“You startled me,” Beckyann said. The elf remained silent and Beckyann took a moment to study her. Long blue hair flowed down her back like a mane, coming almost to her waist and held in place by feathers and ties. Young looking, moonlight pale skin nearly glowed in the sunlight that shined down on the clearing, the purple markings on the elf's face vivid and looking almost like a butterfly when taken in whole. Dressed in an assortment of leathers that were well worn but also well cared for, the Kaldorei had a very serene, natural feel to her. It took Beckyann only a moment to determine that she was likely a druid, and likely the source of the feline eyes she had just been examining.

With a grunt, Beckyann flicked the last of the orc blood from her runeblade and sheathed it, studying the elf with a raised brow, “What? Are you going to chide me now about being in your lands and tell me what sort of awful abomination I am or some such? I've dealt with your kind before in Darnassus you know.”

The elf remained silent for a moment longer before speaking, her voice soft and almost musical. There was no hint of malice in her tone as she replied, “What makes you believe that your actions within the forest have gone unobserved for the past two hours? I am well aware that you have protected Ashenvale as a whole while you wander here, despite what you are.”

“Look druid..” Beckyann began. The elf held up a hand, pausing her in mid-sentence.

“My name is Celessarae Moonfang, not 'druid' or 'lady' or whatever else you wish to call me. While it is true your kind are unpleasant to us and represent a blight against nature, there are things to weigh and consider,” the druidess said calmly.

Beckyann planted her hands on her hips, staring at the elf in surprise, “Well I'll be. One of you has a bit of sense after all. I wasn't 'protecting the forest' though as you put it. I was attempting to find a specific herb here and happened into the orc patrols.”

Celessarae shook her head slowly, feather swaying in her hair, “It matters little what you did or did not intend. What matters is what you have done. While I am not as advanced in my training as many others, it is still a simple thing to examine. You bring disease and corruption with you, and yet such things are correctable. The orcs destroy the entirety of the forest, devastating the land and reaping more than can ever be replaced. When weighed against one another, it is not difficult to make a choice.”

The words gave Beckyann pause; she had never had a debate with a druid before. In fact, other than sneering at her, spitting at her, or telling her she would be 'watched closely', none had spoken more than a word to her. It was a unique encounter. “I'm pretty sure the rest of your little bunch would have a few words of disagreement with you there elf,” she replied somewhat sarcastically.

The druidess remained serene, either not detecting the sarcasm or not rising to meet it. Silver eyes studied the death knight closely, roaming over the emblems of death that contrasted sharply with her own natural attire, “There are many views on the subject. Some believe you should fall on your swords; that your very existence is a blight and that you should be removed lest you spread. I believe that this is a short term view of the problem however. We live for many centuries, and to think that we will not encounter similar diseases, similar blights like those you represent is foolish. It is only by studying, understanding, and curing such ailments that we can truly protect ourselves in the long term.”

Beckyann blinked and barked out a laugh, “Are you serious right now? You really are a novice aren't you? The plague of Undeath cannot be 'cured'. It has never been done.”

Celessarae smiled, the expression genuine, “You are not the first to say such, and I am not claiming that I now, or possibly even ever will have such skill. And yet I have heard of lands afflicted by such magics that are now on the mend thanks to the efforts of Light bearers and my own kind. Think on that as you will. A time may come when there is peace enough for the best of us to fully study the problem and find a solution. We have hardly been free of external threats and given the time to do so.”

The words sent a chill through Beckyann; the last thing she wanted was a cure, but it would also mean so much to some of the others if not for the world. It was almost a soothing thought when one contemplated the possibility of peace in the distant future, where death knights would no longer be needed nor tolerated. She answered slowly, shaking her head, “Perhaps. That time will not be soon however. If you will excuse me, I must finish my work here and return to where I belong. We will both be happier.”

The druidess smiled, nodding and stepping aside. As Beckyann began to walk towards the edge of the clearing, Celessarae followed her, walking in time. The death knight rolled her eyes, clenching her fists at her sides and tromping through the foliage; the last thing she wanted was a Kaldorei babysitter.

And yet that was what she had. She continued along, moving through the open spaces and searching for the perfect shadowed area where the herb she needed might grow. Behind her, Celessarae trailed after her, content to walk along silently. In fact it was hard for Beckyann to even hear the elf as they moved, and if orcs descended upon them it would be because of Beckyann's doing, not the Kaldorei's.

After ten minutes of futile walking and searching, and the rising tension those silver eyes on her back instilled in the death knight, Beckyann finally spotted the herb she needed. With almost a sigh of relief she knelt down, about to yank the plant from the soil. To her surprise, two pale hands pressed against her gauntlets, stopping the motion.

“You must take only what you need, lest you kill the entirety of the plant,” the druidess chided softly. “Here, I will show you, and assist you. Have you never grown your own herbs before? You can save yourself troublesome treks through the forest if you harvest your own herbs properly.”

Beckyann ground her teeth, contemplating what the elf would look like decapitated. Likely that would not go over well though once the body was discovered and it would create what Red liked to call an 'incident'. She ground her teeth together and plastered a false smile on her face, “Oh. By all means, please demonstrate...”

The elf leaned forward, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a small knife. She gently took the plant in hand, cutting only stems and leaves that were not vital to the plant's survival. Even with the careful pruning, she harvested more than enough herbs for Beckyann's uses. As she worked, the sleeves of her tunic pulled up and Beckyann noted an array of silver scars running up Celessarae's left arm. Beckyann's eyes widened and she clicked her tongue as she studied them.

“Looks like you have some experience with warfare after all,” Beckyann said, nodding at the scars. “I'd recognize a battlefield wound if I ever saw one.”

Celessarae paused, her silver eyes looking into the distant forest for a moment before she resumed her pruning. She spoke over her shoulder, not looking at the human that stood beside her, “Yes. That would be an accurate guess.”

Beckyann smirked, folding her arms across her chest, “Not going to talk about it eh?”

The elf continued to prune, seeming to ignore the question at first. After a moment she spoke, no hint of anger or malice in her voice, “Let us just say we all fail at times. It is impolite to ask about the failings of others. For example, I did not ask you how you came to be as you are, did I? Let the past lie as an example for those who experienced it, and leave it at that.”

Beckyann's smirk faded and an look of annoyance passed across her features. With a gentle motion Celessarae handed the herbs to Beckyann, who rolled her eyes before taking them and shoving them in a pouch. The druidess stood, looking calmly at the death knight, her sleeves covering her arm once more as she leaned on her staff.

“Well, that is the end of my business in your forest, elf,” Beckyann said awkwardly, feeling almost relieved. She turned and paused, looking back over her shoulder, “I would like to open a gate here to depart if you don't mind.”

The elf nodded, speaking serenely, “I will cleanse this clearing once you are gone, fear not.”

Beckyann snorted, “Yeah. Whatever.” She began to chant, opening a death gate. As she was about to step into the howling darkness behind, the druidess spoke one last time, the words something that would haunt Beckyann for hours after.

“A time will come when you will have to rejoin the natural order of the world. Whether that is as a corpse decomposing back into the earth as some would like, or through actual healing is a choice you must make for yourself. The beauty of healing is that it can begin whenever you would like, even if it is only from within. Consider this.”

With that, Beckyann was gone into the darkness, leaving Celessarae to watch as the portal closed. She smiled lightly, murmuring into the wind and beginning the process of rejuvenating the plants that had been touched by the darkness.