A gentle, cool breeze lightly tousled the crimson crown of the female Half-Orc. A strand of hair gingerly brushes across her scarred, stern visage as she lay upon her back, staring up at the endless sky. The rustling of the tall, mangled grass, the chirping of the birds, and the sounds of the insects were all that filled the subtle plains.

“My Lord–” she began. “I have found someone.”

The woman struggled to swallow a lump which welled in her throat as she uttered the words.

“I will never forget what you’ve done for me… My liberation, taking me in, sharing with me your heart – but…” she paused.

Slowly, she rolled her head to her left, turning her piercing, sapphire gaze to an aged, crumbling gravestone. Hot, sorrowful tears began to well in the corner of her eyes as she lifts a hand from her stomach, draping it over the empty patch of grass which lay before the stone - stroking it as if it were the hair of a person.

“He makes me happy…” she continued as she wrinkled her nose, inhaling with a harsh huff.

“He reminds me much of you.” she explained as she returned her striking stare to the sky – the rolling, dotted clouds reflecting within her eyes.

“He’s not as strong as you, by any means…” she remarked as a warm grin tugged at the corners of her lips, which part as a soft chuckle spilled forth.

“He’d probably be embarrassed to hear me say that… But…” she sighed, once more sniffling as a solitary tear rolled down the side of her cheek. “Still – he makes me happy.”

“Forgive me…” she whimpered as she raised her arm to her eyes, covering them as if to hide her disposition from the world.

A deep warmth struck her forearm as her tears clung to the fabric, soaking through as if to dry her sorrow.

“Perhaps soon I shall bring him here to meet you…”

(Thank you for the ask @clerix! Sorry it took so long to get to it! xP)

The morning sun split into a beautiful tapestry of colours as it broke its way into a small window. The soft, charred scent of long-burnt maple wood drifted from the small fireplace, seeping into the very cracks of a small room, furnished with but a few chairs, a table, and a small, wooden bed.

Upon the bed, shrouded beneath an array of faded, manila sheets, lay two sleeping forms. A Half-Orcen female, and a man of Elfish descent.

“Nng...” grunts the woman as a stray beam of light slowly shifted over her closed eyelids, forcing them to clench before sluggishly parsing, revealing a piercing, sapphire gaze.

The woman glanced toward the window for a moment as she wrinkled her nose, exhaling with a harsh huff. “Phuh...” she scoffs quietly to herself as she slowly flopped to her side, scootching closer to the man.

She remained silent for a few moments as she observed his sleeping form, staring at the perplexing whiskers that begun to sprout from his chin with awe. 

‘Didn’t think he was capable of growing facial hair.’ the woman thought to herself. Cautiously, she removed a bare arm from beneath the sheets. Gingerly, she placed her slender, green fingers against the man’s chin, lightly caressing the rough skin with the breadth of her palm.

“Hmn.” the Half-Orc giggled as a grin tugged at the corners of her lips.

She inched her way closer to his figure, nearly burying her crimson crown into his chest as she closed her eyes, inhaling for a few moments.

Startled at a sudden rustle, the Half-Orc peered up, meeting a set of curious red and grey hues.

“Good morning.” the man greets, a wide, goofy grin spreading from cheek to cheek.

“Mng...” the woman grunts, a quick blush flushing to her cheeks as her brows knit into a furrow. “Morning.” she replied, quickly averting her gaze as another quiet huff parsed her lips.

13th Entry

January 28th, year 637 of the King’s Calendar

I met once again with Professor Bache, albeit at the Violet Tap this time around as opposed to Stormwind. I do admit, it was quite a surprise to see his face there, as I half-expected him not to make the travel to the Hinterlands. Granted, he came here with the assistance of magic, which isn’t as fulfilling as an actual travel along the roads, but I digress.

We partook in another pleasing conversation, once more regarding our pasts and ambitions. Mine regarding running a tavern, and his regarding the studious arts. He’d inquired if running the Tap had always been a dream of mine, to which I promptly denied. Never saw myself actually running a place of sloven drunkenness all those years ago, in that dark, fettered dungeon.

The topic shifted to his students and his love of them and their work. He went on a good tangent in praise of his students, as if they were his own children. I could not help but view him as the Papa Bear type in children’s stories; protective and proud of his young cubs. It was rather amusing, and, I admit, endearing to see such a display.

He’s told me he’s never actively been in the wilds before, off the beaten path, so a sudden thought jumped into my mind, and I’m rather unsure as to why I suggested it. I blurted out that he should join me this coming Wednesday for a traipse through the forest to do as he suggested in our prior meeting; take in nature and write of poetry or some sort.

Is it strange to say I look forward to this?

Signed,

Olyviane Haldstan

Manager of the Violet Tap

Guard Captain Proxy for House Addington