"Heh, same ol'..." Sniffing the air, he smirks slightly, one brow raised as he takes in the familiar sights. His wraps scratch lightly on the exposed skin of his arms as he moves, producing a letter written on parchment he borrowed from a kindly scribe he met and subsequently murdered for not having the ink he wanted in Suramar. Taking a moment, he glances at his work...
"To whomever it may concern... I'm coming back. If you see a suspiciously handsome individual huddled near a tree, or perhaps a boulder, do try to not stick an arrow in him. It's probably me. Or, it's some other suspiciously handsome individual. Which case, do me the favor of killing it please.
Signed,
~ Malkaris S. Darkfire ~"
*below his signature is a small drawing of a heart with Greebo's name in it, distorted somewhat with specks of blood, presumably from the ear folded into the parchment, at the bottom, rolled up so that it would fall out upon the letter's opening*
An old shade makes a visit
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