Looking at Ilveran here, I don’t feel pity. I feel cold steel pressing against my spine.
He isn’t a "poor boy." He’s a being getting torn apart from the inside by a force far greater than himself. And Melanntae… she doesn’t save him out of pity. She makes a choice that reeks of fatalism.
Northrend. A blizzard. And one very unfortunate encounter with an artifact.
Storyboard in progress...
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