As I turn back to find my son mangled by my actions, I take him up on my shoulder as the final fatherly thing I could ever do. Tears stream down my eyes, mixing with crusted blood upon my cheeks. I realized that the trek back to the Emerald Sanctuary was only the beginning of my treacherous journey. Thoughts of what they would say to me were snapping through my mind. What if I had to defend myself? Would they understand? What would their eyes look like, and how would those eyes look into my own?
The bend on the road revealed the Emerald Sanctuary was in sight. There members of the Emerald Circle were on their nightshift, keeping watch on their posts. Junattieta was still standing there, at the very place that I had left her earlier that night. Not even her hooves looked like they had moved. As I approached Juna, now beginning to drag in exhaustion, he face went from vigilant to a look of disbelief. When I looked into her eyes, a scream erupted from her, turning her whole body away from mine and my dead Son’s.
Alerted, the Cenarion Circle rushed into, weapons pointed at me until they realized who I was through the thickness of the dark. Taronn Redfeather and Greta Mosshoof, Shu’halo residents of the Sanctuary, stood there and began to shake their heads. “What is the meaning of this? Hurgroda…” Greta stammered. I was still in shock at the time, searching for the right words, the right timing. Nothing showed up, and not even at the right timing. “I…I was tracking Sha’lim th-though…” I sputtered.
Junattieta turned to me, eyes narrowing, “Hurgroda…why? How could you do such a thing?”
“It, it wasn’t me, love! I was defe…”
“I’d rather not hear about it. Our Son…our only Son is dead! Our…”
“You think I do not see this?” I shouted. “I carried our Son here! I saved him, you do not understand!”
“I need…time, Hurgroda. I don’t want to hear it. I knew we should have…I knew I should have kept a closer watch on him.”
I went to hold Juna’s hand, and she pulled away insecurely. “I need some time to reflect alone…” Juna stated, then ran off into the forest.
“Hurgroda, we deserve an explanation to all this,” Taronn demanded. At first I tried to run after Juna, worried sick for her well being, but wound up stumbling. As I stumbled in front of the Emerald Circle members, my bag opened up and out rolled the head of Fel’dan. Humiliated and tired, I looked up to my fellow Shu’halo, eyes desperate for understanding. “I never thought…” Taronn took a step back. “You…have slain Fel’dan?”
I bit my lower lip and gave a nod. As I tried to collect myself, I began to tell them of my nightmare tracking. “We apologize for doubting you, Hurg,” Greta said. “I hope you understand…it was merely an initial reaction. We don’t wish to hold you no longer. Please, take your Son back to your Tribe for proper burial. Taronn and I shall send Emerald Scouts all across Ashenvale and beyond if we have to. Do not tarry about your love, good Brother. We shall find her, for you have enough to worry about as it is.”
I bowed a very enervated bow, “I thank you both. I need not a caravan from you though. Tis my burden and responsibility. I shall carry Sha’lim and bring him back to my Tribe. It is a burden I hope…none of you shall ever have to face.”
And with that, I carried the limp body across my left shoulder. Some have said that my most distinct feature of my body is my broad shoulders. These shoulders are even more broad that you can fathom. That night, without rest or replenishment, I walked. I walked from Felwood all the way back to Bloodhoof Village. And that was the longest and most lonely walk I have ever trod. What awaited me further, more misunderstanding and explaining to do. My eyes gazed blankly at the paths that wound through Kalimdor. The upcoming journey was a confession to myself, and a testament of my faith and courage.
