Herbalists' Cache the gunslinger watched as the world moved on

her first response caused a wave of anger to flood his frame and cause his limbs to quake against the power of it. the sound was never intended for drageda. the very thought of that caused him to feel a deeply rooted protection for his home... the home he had been taken away from, and had never hoped to return to again. as it was, he had been fortunate enough to find his place back beside the ocean. it seemed that it had only occurred with severe losses, and that was where his rage was hung.

illidan furrowed his brow at the pale woman. there were so many things that he wanted to say but didn't have the means to express. he was lost in the thought of it – as he often was – and all the social grace in the world would not have permitted him to speak the things that clung like dark shadows in his mind. this woman didn't understand because she existed only on one side of the equation. she knew only her pack, and the things that the cliff wolves desired. all of this should have seemed reasonable to her, but she did not know the history behind the sound. he was all that she had to learn.

“your wolves were never intended for the sound,” he stated after a moment. for once, his words seemed confident and sure. there was no sense of doubt within him. “my mother has belonged to that slice of the beach far longer than your pack has existed on the cliffs.” this was true, if what caiaphas' shared of her history was correct. she had been there long before the wolves of drageda had ever even arrived on the cliffs. yet, they felt entitled to the oceanic sanctuary? he could not accept it.

her last statement was truly what broke his back. he hung his head and closed his eyes tightly, fighting the urge to leap at her and thrash against her with claw and tooth. instead, the most sickening and bitter of laughs erupted from his lips. he shook his head from side to side before lifting his crown to stare at her with fire in the yellow of his eyes. “blameless...” the ghost repeated, as though the word was an absurdity in itself. “you're a fool if you truly believe that. a fool, or you're blinded by your loyalty to your master. grow a backbone.”

the words were savage and truly undeserved, but illidan could not fathom just how she had come to the conclusion that both sides were without blame. war was not created from blameless creatures. it wasn't his job to make this woman understand why it plagued him so, or why it was that rusalka had been forced to invade their pack. he wasn't intended to be the voice of reason in her head.

“i was born there, and my mother lived there through various different packs – leading many of them – so i'm not sure you understand at all. that is home... that is our home. it always will be. the sound has never, and will never belong to drageda.”