By daybreak we gathered all what little possessions we’ve owned. The Clan spotted us a Goblin caravan of kodos to make our travels easier. All of us said our goodbyes then began to head north through the lands of Kalimdor.
In a rigorous two day’s time, we arrived in the forests of Ashenvale. The nature there was teeming, the trees tall with grandeur. Sha’lim described the forest as a canvas of meshed purples and greens and browns. I told him the very specific shade of watered down gray was my particular favorite.
Upon entering Felwood, a change of environment tore through the air with abrupt voracity. It was always hard for me to grasp such a change; it seemed as though there was an invisible barrier laid down by the Night Elves. Once you crossed it, death crossed you.
Remaining vigilant for any Deadwood furbolgs we’d possibly cross, we finally arrived safely in the basking glow of the Emerald Sanctuary. There Innkeeper Pala greeted us all with open arms of the Cenarion. She escorted us to our new abode, skimming the outskirts of the encampment. “If there is anything of need,” Pala mentioned, “do not hesitate, for I am here to give hospitality. And Hurgroda…” Pala handed me a rolled up parchment with a kind smile upon her face. I unrolled it at once, to find out it was a map of Felwood, complete in its entirety. Bloodvenom Post, as well as safe gathering grounds and dangerous areas were all marked upon this map. “I feel this will be a good guideline for you and Sha’lim,” she said. “It was marked before Illidan’s as well as demons’ leader Tichondrius’ effects were upon this forest, and it has been marked continually to today’s situation.”
“I thank you kindly, Sister,” I bowed. “I do hope our services to you and the Cenarion will be that of a great help.” With that, we all spent the rest of the day in relaxation, playing bone toss and sharing epic stories by the cool night’s campfire.
Days passed and the hunting and gathering became greater with ease. Ashenvale, to my surprise, was more than hospitable. On our arms we wore a cloth with the insignia of the Cenarion Circle. When a Night Elf was spotted, they would see where our services come from, and bothered we were not. It wasn’t necessarily a friendly relationship, but a relationship of value and understanding.
When seasons passed, I soon allowed Sha’lim to roam to certain parts of Ashenvale alone. He and I gathered separately to ensure a greater number of harvest for the Sanctuary as well as the Post further northwest. One day, when gathering was finished, I noticed Sha’lim with a limp to his walk. “Son, what have come of you?” I questioned. Sha’lim looked down and kept walking, “It was nothing, Father…a root that I tripped over, at best.”
I grabbed onto his shoulder and looked in his eyes, “Sha’lim, I know it is not like you to stumble. So tell me, what is the real story?”
Sha’lim sighs, “I cannot hide anything from you, Father. I simply…got in a tangle with one of the b-bears of the forest.” Sha’lim stutters, “I know you told me to stay away from them, they just…”
“Encroach upon this territory even more,” I nod in understanding. “Well, off you to bed, my Fine Hunter. Nothing like a good night’s rest that cannot cure a mangled leg.”
As the days went on, I noticed the limp continually became worse. At one point it seemed as though not only his limp had worsened, but his overall aura and attitude. Junattieta also became concerned with his actions, and questioned me as to why I have not pursued this further.
“I can only get so close before he snaps at me, my dear.” I said.
“Hurgroda, I want you to keep a closer eye! You are his protector, and as much as I wish it my responsibility to the fullest, I have the Circle to tend to. Please…this shan’t last forever. I am not asking you to trace his every footstep…he’s just…” Juna pauses, “…not himself lately.
Of course, I agreed upon this, and the following day, it seems like I could not watch him enough.
Morning broke, and we were off to gather once more. I had noticed that his arm cloth of the Cenarion had inched his way up his arm, practically to his shoulder. This boggled me, and I had to ask, “Son, isn’t that uncomfortable with you insignia so high up your arm? You do need the kaldorei to make sure they see it.”
“What, are you going to tell me how to wear my clothing now?” Sha’lim snapped. “Honestly Father, they will see it. And if they don’t, then they have me to tend to.
“Now Son, you are acting irrational! What can I do to possibly help? Is it the move?”
Sha’lim just shrugged off with a ‘let me be’ and vanished into the woods.
