Ankyra Sound a drop of hell, a touch of strange

even the boy did not fully understand the war that his mother had waged with the cliff pack. he had been foolish in his following of her – chasing because she was his blood, or perhaps because it was that she had given him his looks. whatever it had been that had torn illidan from the plateau pack and thrust him onto the beach, it had not been based out of a sharp mind. even the premise of a familial bond was not enough to truly sway him any particular way, but he had found a sense of peace with having left kavik and liri to the safety of their home. it was true that he didn't feel as though he belonged to the stretch of beach, but he knew that it suited him far better than the warmth of the plateau pack – possibly their members.

the tone that had been adopted by firefly was not missed. illidan swiveled an ear on his crown so that it splayed to the side. he felt a lump rise against the back of his throat that hadn't been there before. all that talk of war, and he hadn't once thought of how his pack mate would react to it. “you know that i'll fight beside you – for you – to the best of my ability,” the dark-hooded wildling remarked in a gruff tone. he was almost too afraid to peer at the sun-touched wolf; he did not know if those words were powerful enough to push someone into battle after they had already endured so much.