𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐆 𝐄 𝐑/𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋

#𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃 THIS IS A PRIVATE ROLEPLAY BLOG for 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐓 original character 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃. Content is 18+ [ violence / sexual themes ]. #𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 from @sunnsworn [ carrd ]

written by aera [ she/they / 25+ ]

Willa was still wide awake; sleep rarely came easy. She was notoriously nocturnal, always had been. Many of the elder Farstriders were more than happy to turn over the night watches to the (thoroughly vetted) youth. The Farstrider Enclave was deeper into their territory, closer to the southern borders. While there were less threats in that area (and thus less rangers), they would never become complacent. As long as Trolls still drew breath on their lands, they would keep ever watchful eyes on their forests.

Truthfully, Willa had taken a liking to being further away from the looming spires of Silvermoon (from the spats waiting for her in what would be her home). It also meant anyone wanting to seek her out would have to go to a lot of trouble to do so. The familiar head of golden hair instinctively drew a smile across the ranger’s lips – one that quickly fell. Greens and golds were Alleria’s trademark colors, and that effervescent blue. It wasn’t that crimson was a rare accent, it was that it had always been accompanied by a grin, or at least a look of satisfaction. Not shock.

To anyone else who didn’t know her as well, hadn’t spent years racing toe in toe to her may not have even noticed the way her hands trembled, or how her eyes were just a touch too wide to suggest peace of mind. Silence hung on the air between them as Willa closed the gap, her eyes past her shoulder at the small gathering just outside the lodge. The quiet exchange spoke of an ambush just north – and one casualty. Willa and Alleria often thought themselves skilled beyond measure (Willa likely far more guilty of it), but the truth remained that they were still young. Their skills and instincts were far from peaked, but that didn’t mean mistakes were swallowed easily… especially mistakes like these.

It would be years more before they were truly steeled against inevitable losses. Even then, they’d never be immune to them all. Alleria’s arm was taken into a steady hand, urging her to fall in stride with Willa until they were alone in one of the sparse washrooms. It was only then that her hold on the blonde was relinquished in order to dig out cloths and a silver basin to fill with water. The worn pewter was rested against the floor, next to Alleria’s figure as she also sat against the cold stone. Willa, too, eased herself onto her knees and soon the only sound that bounced off the arched walls was that of sloshing and dripping water.

At times it felt as though Willa knew Alleria like a mirror. Comforting words wouldn’t help now; to tell her ‘it wasn’t her fault’ or that ‘it was alright’ would be batted aside for all their uselessness. What would help was the understanding that it wasn’t alright, and it wasn’t for her to know whether or not Alleria was at any fault when she had not been there to see the attack. What would help was smudging away the drying blood that was staining her fingertips pink. For all the ways Willa had always been more than happy to cast her judgements, this was not one of those moments.

;𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 — @thasdorah

A look was shot between the mangled target and Alleria's tensed posture before a vague smile passed Willa's lips, ❝ I imagine if I had a sister like Sylvanas, I'd feel the same... but I don't. ❞ The half-rhetorical question felt easy to answer — no, of course she didn't. For the sake of relating, however, Willa thought on it for longer than a knee-jerk reaction.

❝ Neleena never causes any trouble if she can help it. She practically breaks into hives at just the thought of disappointing a superior. Hard to be annoyed at someone who actively avoids conflict. ❞ Was it disappointing, though? Willa had a hard time deciding on that. Did she want self-absorbed, hot headed and impulsive sisters? Definitely not. Willa would never envy Alleria that. Yet there were times Willa did find herself wishing Neleena was a little more outspoken ... or maybe just more confident in general. No one could speak their minds without the confidence to do so.

❝ If nothing else, at least my parents got one well-mannered and obedient child. I guess yours did too ... after a few tries. ❞ It made sense to instinctively compare Neleena to Sylvanas or Vereesa with them both being sisters and similar in age, but the truth of the matter was Willa's relationship with her own sister was far more comparable to Alleria's with Lirath. A true golden child that could do no wrong in their eyes.

;𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 — @thasdorah

As difficult as it was to admit, the words felt foreign in more ways than one. It wasn't as though Willa had never experienced loyalty, but it was a sentiment all its own when it came from a subordinate. Alleria was many things, but she wasn't that. Their history was a jumbled mix of contradictions; a tangled and knotted red string until they both took a knife to it.

Young, impulsive, abrasive. They had never been oil and water, they had been oil and oil that kept igniting and burning out. There had never been any promises, just a shaky idea of loyalty. ... They were not those young woman any more, right? Time had hammered away at their youth, obligation had shackled their impulses — abrasive ... well they weren't claiming to be different people.

❛ Promise me. Swear to it. Put blood to your words. ❜ Those demands circled ravenously through her mind, but Willa's lips remained sealed. Those were not the words she was afraid of escaping. ❛ I will make choices you will not understand anymore. I will not honor your loyalties, I will not share your allegiances. Do you understand? ❜ Would that end up mattering? Would that be enough to erase the claims she made in the moment? They were both still clutching broken pieces of all they had left, eventually they would realize their hands were bleeding.

Willa allowed herself a moment to truly look at Alleria, impassive in expression but penetrating in gaze. All the surface shallow things were still the same. Her hair was still spun of gold, her eyes were still evergreens. Yet she was not still the woman Willa had failed to love enough. That thought was anything but disheartening. What could her heart allow her to become that Willa would not find admirable; would not find worthy. In her eyes was not a second chance, but a new unexplored path.