Change

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  • Published: 29 May 2012
  • Updated: 29 May 2012
  • Status: Complete
WoW Oneshot.

My view on WoW and expansions, but also includes adventure experience from my own time with the game. Written from my characther, Silverfox' view.

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1. Change

 

It has been a long time since I died.

I still remember what it felt like. To be a druid, racing the lands in my new gained forms.

When my enemies ran at the sound of my roar. The fear evident on their faces. Animals, humans or any other creature. It didn't matter to me.

They feared me.

My claws were sharper than any weapon. My pelt shone silver in the light of the Sun.

But best of all, was the feeling of running in the forest.

Loving the lush forest as only an elf could. The wind in my whiskers and the crushed leaves under my paws.

Yes. Life was good.

 

Then one day, news of another land brought me to a place far more different than my forest.

 

Westfall.

 

And being too curios for my own good, I felt a need to explore. Widen my horizons and travel to new ends.

Soon, I found out that much were different from my forest life.

I was no longer feared. A new hierarchy had to be established. A hierarchy where I had to kill to stay.

My claws soon became dull, my fur felt hot and unbearable and the stench of blood continued to swirl down my path.

This place of blood and anger was too different from my lush and peaceful forest.

I continued to stay on the tip of my claws. Anxiously awaiting an attack behind every bush. Just waiting for them to strike the moment I dared to let my guard down.

The time of waiting.

And waiting.

Just waiting...

It became too much for me in the end.

I became reckless.

Prowling into their camps.

Melding into the shadows.

Killing them one after another.

My claws raking their sides.

My teeth sinking into the soft flesh, as the blood continued to gush out from their wounds.

Their futile death screams echoed in my dreams.

But I couldn't care less.

I was feared again.

Not for my fear inducing roar.

But for my silent killing and slitting of throats.

 

Once again I roamed the barren land.

Feeling the hot air heat up my pelt and the stones and grit dig into my paw pads.

And as I regained my position in the hierarchy, I never stopped killing those foolish humans.

Their fear for me kept them at bay as I continued to slaughter them silently at night.

I was foolish to think they didn't want revenge.

I thought I had shown them who the new cat in town was.

But I was wrong.

 

With the blazing Sun as their witness, they stabbed me in the back in broad daylight.

Driving the knife through my heart and kept it there till I took my last futile breath.

 

For a long time I floated our land as a wisp spirit.

Content with watching the nature as the small plants continued to grow steadily without my interference.

No longer did I sleep with the screams of my enemies haunting my dreams.

I was free of the fighting and bloodshed that threatened our world with the return of the Lich King...

 

But the land changed.

 

Deathwing returned to our beautiful Azeroth.

Thrall was no longer Warchief of the Horde.

And where the land before was barren and desolated, plants and trees sprouted.

The earth cracked and split, leaving us with smoldering fire in our wake.

 

I cannot say that I do not fear for our world.

Because deep inside, I am frightened by these turn of events.

 

But all we can do is wait.

 

And let the Mist come.

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