Horizon Ridge he is too young to have learned to hate himself yet

the young savage moved across the barrow fields and away from the sounds of ghosts that lingered at his tail. if he could have remembered the sound of his father’s voice, he was certain that he would have heard it on the wind. in many ways, it was fortunate that he did not recall the gruff tone of the old man. in few ways, it was a pity that he did not.
 
illidan moved on lengthy limbs and closed a great deal of distance until he had found himself under the safe net of a vast swatch of trees that stood tall. it reminded him a great deal of the blackpine, and the forest allowed him to feel a sense of security that he had not known for a very long time. so, he prowled beneath the dim light of the overcast skies. the boughs loomed overhead and shielded him from flurries of snow that spiraled down to coat the earth.