The nights in Moonglade were never entirely quiet. There was always the insistant hum of activity that any forest boasts, but in Moonglade it was louder, in some ways more prevalent, perhaps due to the protection of the Druids. Whether it was the gentle sounds of nature, or the demons haunting her, Maralah was unable to sleep. She lay in her cot and stared at the ceiling, her face and pillow wet with tears.
Maralah pressed her eyes shut and rolled onto her side, pulling her legs up and clutching them with trembling hands. She lay there tense for a moment trying to stave off another wave of tears before her shoulders began to shake. It was not long before she was unable to hold back the sobs. As a wail rose from her throat, increasing in pitch and intensity, a tauren woman ran to her side and knelt whispering calming words and waving a hand over Maralah’s brow. Whatever magic the attendant cast did what it was intended and tranquilized Maralah, allowing the tortured woman to sleep.
Laughter rang out between the buildings of Freewind post as the little tauren girl tried once again to walk. Getting to her feet was enough of a challenge but getting her oversized hooves to cooperate with her intention of getting to the wyvern roost was proving nearly impossible. Her foster parents looked on, amused but supportive, oblivious to the figure of a tauren woman standing in the shadows… also watching.
Nariko turned, her chubby face covered in sleek fur, and lifted her arms, calling out, “mama! Mama! Riko want kitty!”. The figure in the shadows stepped forward but halted suddenly as the other tauren woman rushed to her foster daughter and took the child in her arms, showing the girl the winged “kitty”.
Maralah stepped back into the shadows, her face hidden.
The attendant frowned at the restless figure of Maralah on the cot and whispered another spell over her charge. Maralah seemed to calm once again, sleeping deeply.
Nariko smiled proudly at the tauren male with her, oblivious to the lion hidden away in the bushes, watching. The young tauren was eager to show that she was ready to become a hunter like her foster father, and so he had promised to show her how to fire a bow. Nariko took up the bow and clumsily strung an arrow, glancing at times to the man she called father. The girl pulled back on the bow string and let fly the arrow, straight into the ground at her feet. She yelped as her fingers were bitten painfully by the unforgiving weapon.
The lion in the bushes tensed almost running out of hiding but stopped, her eyes moving to the man with Nariko who calmly took the girl’s fingers in his hand and spoke soothing words. After a few moments Nariko smiled up at him and said, “I love you, papa!” Words that the retreating lion barely heard.
Once again Maralah’s attendant rushed to her side doing what she can to soothe the restless druid. This time she lookd up as her spells took effect, “I can’t keep doing this, she’ll need to face it sooner or later.” Tocho nodded to the aide and withdrew quietly his face marked with lines of worry.
A young Nariko crouched near a pack of wolves while a storm crow soared overhead unobserved. With slow and deliberate movements the young hunter began to approach one particular wolf that stood apart from the others, she spoke calmly but insistently.
The crow watched from far above, slowly moving lower from air current to air current, as Nariko tamed her first companion. As the young tauren looked deep into the eyes of the animal that would work with her, and learned the beasts name for the first time, she cried out in jubilation. The crow made as if to land but hesitated as she heard a happy Nariko tell the wolf, “just wait until Mama meets you, she always said it’d be a wolf… I know she’ll just love you.”
Nariko looked up suddenly startled, as if she’d heard something, only to shake her head at the now empty skies.
Maralah let out an anguished cry and sat bolt upright in the cot. She looked around wildly before stopping short at the sympathetic eyes of her tauren nurse. Swinging her hooves off the cot she stood and walked away, her face a blank mask… the calm surface of a deep river, the tumultuous current of her agony buried deep within.
The nurse moved to follow Maralah but stopped as a figure stepped from the shadows and waved her off. “Let me,” he said in the deep rumbling voice of most male tauren. He followed Maralah, reaching her as she stood on the bluff overlooking the lake; he simply stood beside her like a pillar of strength. He said nothing, knowing there was nothing he could say until she was ready to listen.
Maralah looked down at the waves crashing on the rocks below, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her guilt. “What have I done, Onatam?”
Onatam lifted a hand to Maralah’s shoulder remaining silent. She knew well what she had done, and he knew well that she had done it in his defence. They both bore their own guilt, each in their own way. And in their own way each would eventually deal with it. Onatam straightened up, dropping his hand to his side. He’d made a decision. “I must leave for now, Maralah, I have a hunt to complete. I will avenge her, I promise you that.”
It was Maralah’s turn to respond with silence, simply looking out at the far shore of the lake as Onatam made his way inside.
~
“Chief, I’m worried about your sister,” while her voice was low there was still a distinct urgency to the attendant’s tone. “She’s not grieving; she’s not doing much of anything really. She just sits there, unresponsive. Now and then she’ll mumble when no one is around, it’s like she’s having a conversation with herself… but none of us have heard what she’s saying, she stops when anyone gets too close.”
Tocho listened stoically to the report, emotion flashing in his eyes but his face remaining passive. His years leading the Pack and his recent sojourn with his mentor Artan had cooled his temper and taught him to control his expression. “Keep at it, please; I will see what I can do.”
The Chief watched the woman walk away before taking his cat form and slipping into the shadows. He moved within Maralah’s room and settled in to wait. It wasn’t long before Maralah, sitting on a cushion by the window, began to murmur. Tocho inched forward, his feline ears twitching to catch what his sister was saying.
“It’s so lovely, so very lovely, thank you.” Maralah’s voice was quiet, Tocho strained to listen. “The tune is so soothing, the melody so chipper and sombre at the same time. Did you write it?” she paused for a moment and then nodded, “I thought so… Nariko would have loved it.”
Still hidden from view Tocho winced and backed out of the room to leave Maralah to her rambling. As he left to find his sister’s nurse a figure shifted into view beside Maralah… an undead wearing a pristine mask of white porcelain, the lines of paint delicate and intricate, some so fine they must have been done with a single hair. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, she nodded, “yes, yes she would have loved it.”
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