Felltree Marsh alone and only a sojourner in the land, without friends or the need of them

no amount of wishful thinking would have allowed him to unhear the word that she had used and then covered up. his ears twisted on his head and he turned to her with a squinted expression. the yellow in his gaze was latched tightly to her own sights. it explained why she looked different from some of the other wolves that he’d crossed paths with. still, he didn’t think that there would be those who would turn her away for being mixed. he’d met some who looked far worse than she did and they still had places to call home.
 
“doesn’t matter what you are,” he said with a shrug and a frown. “you can find a home that’ll accept you. even if you have to make your own.” they were nice words for someone who felt far too out of place in his own dwelling. then, she proceeded to ask him why he might extend the offer to search the coast for a place for her to make her own. he thought it odd that she would find the idea so outrageous that she would question his motives on it.
 
“listen, it would be good for both of us,” he tried to convince her. “i’ll get to scout the coast and meet some of the other packs, and you’ll get to ask them what kind of wolves they accept.” it was a perfect deal, he thought. they’d get some experience under their belts and she might find out that her worries were not needed; there was a home for her out there in spite of where she came from or what she looked like. illidan had to believe that to be true, or else he would fear for himself.
 
“my wounds are fine. i’ve endured worse…”