The wind blew Nea’s purple curls across her wet cheeks as the overcast night sky loomed above. Nea was not usually one for normal social gatherings but this was far from normal. She sat on the cold cobblestone sidewalk, her kin peppered around her. Some Kaldorei had been living in Stormwind for quite some time and had adapted themselves to a more human schedule of sleeping at night, but it seemed even those who had the ability to do so weren’t sleeping right now..
Nea looked up. The luminescent eyes of those around her were dimmed with tears as well. Some tried getting rest, while others murmured prayers to Elune in hope of comfort. Nea looked down at the small bonfire before her, its flames dancing with wild abandon. While it was...
“Ya know, Myth, for future reference when I say ‘peel the potatoes’ I don’t mean carve them into beautiful flowers,” the older male chuckled at the younger one before him who had paused in his artistic endeavors upon said spud as he looked up.
A sheepish grin bloomed on Mythlleass Wildsword’s face as he shrugged at Jioren ‘Cookie’ Summerwing, “Aw, common Cookie, the Sentinels deserve fancy potatoes, don’t’cha think?”
The head cook of the mess hall in Feathermoon Stronghold sighed at his ward, looking over at the large pile of already peeled potatoes that Myth had made short work of earlier and was thankful the boy’s idle hands had only come up with this diversion, “Uh-huh. So who’s your target this...
Gloved hands pushed the canvas tent flaps aside as the Kaldorei slipped into the faint morning light, the war trodden dirt beneath her feet crunching softly. The embers of the nights campfires lay in their own ashes, scattered in piles throughout the Alliances camp ground. The siege towers loomed over head, their monstrous size acting as a threatening vision of war to the opposing side.