Ankyra Sound i kill with my heart

the thing about living things, is that they are all damaged. life is trauma -- in its purest, most unadulterated state, it still manages to cleave those that experience it, and eventually leaves them all together. caiaphas, just old enough to be retrospective about her own mortality (and that of her children's) shared a soft, solemn smile -- for they were luckier than most even if they had endured incredible hardships.

her son was enduring. her daughter too. they had faced more together than most families had in a lifetime, and had shaken free the grapples of suffering and adversity. caiaphas was colder for it. illidan was stronger yet.

as illidan's shoulder's sank and the tension fled his figure like a ghost, caiaphas slipped to the ground and acknowledged his thanks with a silent nod. she placed her thin arms out in front of her and lifted her proud muzzle to the wind, which rifled through her cheeks and fur and brought with it the hint of a distant, balmy sea.

life, it seemed, was worth living. she would stick around a while longer.