Whispers in the Dark

      He was so tired of that ugly, broken green orb that hovered in the sky.

      ‘You don’t have to go, Arvad,’ Whisper signed insistently, a heavy frown on his face as he watched the Rangari’s.

      “I know I don’t have to– you’ve said it a thousand times. It’s not about whether I have to; I want to.”

      ‘You don’t want to. I know you don’t. You just don’t want to let me go by myself.’

      Arvad scowled slightly; the Kaldorei wasn’t wrong, and he hated being so blatantly called out like that. He sighed heavily, the breath laced with a note of severe exasperation. “Please don’t make me have this discussion again, Sarindell. If you go, I go. That’s that.”

      And so they went, regardless of the reluctance the Draenei so poorly concealed.

Wolfsbane

aconite / monkshood / wolf’s bane / leopard’s bane / mousebane / women’s bane / devil’s helmet / queen of poisons / blue rocket

that you’re just a boy.

Nothing special,

nothing more.

Just a boy that I had fallen in love with,

that didn’t love me back.”