Totoka River if given a knife and a hand in which to hold it, the mind would eventually eat itself

illidan had been in pain for a very long time. it was the one constant that he knew well enough not to doubt. while he was still young, he had aged enough to know what he was made of. pain was one of those things. it lived in the very marrow of his bones; it slithered through his bloodstream like a poisonous snake's venom. once, he had hated it more than he'd hated his own circumstances. it had only been since returning to his birthplace that he had started to wonder...

the pain had grown to be so much a part of him that he was not certain who he would be without it. it was so carefully interwoven in his frame, that if he should rid himself of that... wouldn't he just cease to be? surely, that was how the world worked. it crafted you into what it wanted and if you should deny it, it would deny you. the boy did not share these thoughts with the sandy wolf. he held them locked away like a precious secret.

“i'll do what you ask of me,” the young ghost offered with a nod of his head. he needed to become better at his trade. “the water doesn't bother me much at all.” that was true enough. while the ghost had grown to be more fond of the terrain that rested inland, he had been born of the sea. this meant that he belonged to the ocean just as much as he belonged anywhere else.

with a careful gaze, illidan drew his sights upward to latch onto the penetrating blue of the other brute's eyes. “i'll travel down here if that makes it easier...”