The tall, shaggy druid gazed out over Silverpine Forest, arms folded, tail swishing back and forth as she waited. Patience. Calm. Ever since she had left Bloodhoof Village, she found it harder and harder to maintain control of her thoughts - lately, they had been running rampant over her as an avalanche destroys the land over which it sweeps. Yemana bristled, remembering the sidelong looks in Thunder Bluff as she spoke with the auctioneer, with the banker, with the wyvern handler. It will be nice to walk on two legs instead of four for a change she had thought. I am shu'halo. I do not have the spirit of a bear or a lioness. I have the spirit of Yema, the wind, and Ishnalea, my mother. The Earthmother knows my name. I am Her daughter.
Those reminders were not enough to stop the looks, though. They glanced over her black coat and mane, avoided meeting her black eyes, and looked away again. The druid refused to be defeated, though - she walked upright from rise to rise, exchanging greetings with Aska, sitting and talking with Hamuul Runetotem - one of her own tribe - and curing her collection of hides at the armorer's - though she sat in the back of the tent to do her work. Why, then, did I feel so relieved to be gone from my people?
Yemana listened to the Sin'dorei behind her speaking in their native tongue. Seraphalim was by far the most eloquent of the trio, speaking to her in kind tones, his heavily-accented Orcish barely understandable to Yemana's ears. The other two seemed younger, both champions of their Light, but unruly. To them, the Tauren in front of them was no more than an animal - intelligent, but an animal nonetheless.
Footsteps - no, hoofsteps - crunched on the path leading up to the Keep, and Yemana was shaken from her reverie at the sound. Another of her kind would be welcome, but... The druid was calling the energy needed to shift when the newcomer rounded the corner.
And she was not shu'halo.
She was shorter than Yemana, horned, but where she lacked fur, she had skin the color of the sky. Her almond shaped eyes peered at the group as she stopped, surprised, and took an involuntary step back. She wore armor decorated with symbols similar to those that adorned the pieces worn by the two holy warriors of the Sin'dorei - though much heavier and finer - and Yemana felt the presence of the Light radiating from her. Her helmet was tucked under her arm, and shield was slung on her back.
The stranger spoke in a strange, rippling tongue and moved to walk past the group to sit on the crumbling wall. Clearly, she had business within Arugal's domain as well. She moved with a grace that belied her bulk caused by all her armor, but as she passed the two younger Sin'dorei, one of them shoved the other into her path. She stopped just in time to avoid colliding with him, and the first one snickered as his friend recovered, straightening, and offered the blue-skinned girl a mocking bow. She stepped around him, and he turned back to the other young Blood Elf with a grin. The words he spoke next were in Thalassian, but there could be no doubt to their meaning.
A string of angry words exploded from Seraphalim's mouth, but the two younger Sin'dorei seemed to pay no heed to them. Yemana turned her dark gaze on the pair and spoke in her clumsy, accented Orcish. Her tone was as flint.
"You two have the manners of babes. Let the girl alone."
At the sound of her voice, the girl shot Yemana a look that she interpreted as a mixture of relief and gratitude, and nodded to both her and Seraphalim with a tiny smile. The two paladin laughed again and made horns from their fingers, speaking in their native tongue and - judging by the glances in her direction - including Yemana in their crude humor.
The druid shook her shaggy mane and sighed. She had heard how these blue-skins had crashed on Azeroth, exiled from their homeland, strangers here in this world. She had never met one who offered her insult, yet here one of them was, mocked and ridiculed by these so-called "High Elves". And she had done nothing to deserve it.
Yemana had never been quick to anger. Ishnalea had once told her that her temper was as a green wood - never burning. These two young Sin'dorei, though, had kindled something within her. These blue-skins were here, now. They walked the breast of the Earthmother, drank Her water, killed Her beasts for food, ate of Her natural bounty. They all did...orcs, pink-skins, the trolls, long-eared elves - both purple and pink - the Forsaken...all of them. And the Earthmother knows them all. Why this war, then?
A rasping voice over her hearthstone alerted Yemana and the rest of the party that their fifth was ready to be summoned to the Keep. After he stepped through the portal, Yemana blessed them all and, before shifting, caught the eye of the waiting blue-skin once again. The girl spoke in her language and nodded at Yemana - there was no translation needed.
"Earthmother bless you as well, child." Taurahe was like a cool drink after the dry harshness of Orcish. An eyeblink later, a great shaggy bear lumbered across the bridge towards the entrance to Shadowfang Keep.
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The next day, a dark, tawny-colored lioness slinked into the guild hall. The banner in place of pride was a golden hammer against a dark purple background. The hall was mostly empty, and she knew that no one saw her deposit a rolled parchment into a basket on top of the other mail.
"The Earthmother has other children, though they call Her by different names and do not always honor Her. Nevertheless, they are your brothers and sisters, and you must always strive for peace with them. When a mother's children slay one another, she weeps - so, too, does She."
The words of Ishnalea echoed once again in Yemana's head as she slipped out the door. With the exception of the new addition to the pile of rolled and folded parchments, there was left no sign that she had ever been there.