Dragoncrest Cliffs The Freedom From Possession

the beast across from him turned and illidan was met with a chillingly ethereal argent stare. he did not need to know about this man to understand that he was a creature of the world, and he had power within the length of his limbs. when he stood, the young leader had become incredibly aware of his own body and the limitations that he had set on himself. this man could have destroyed him, if he so wished. the thought should have given him more concern than it did. somehow, death did not seem to be such a frightening thing. instead of fear, the sea born hound felt only the astounding weariness that had made a home in the marrow of his bones.
 
‘rouj,’ the man spoke.
 
it was only fitting that illidan would be taken off guard by the sudden word. it took him only a moment or two to discern that this was the man’s moniker. the ghost lowered his head for a fraction of time, showing his respect to the wolf called rouj. with no more distance to keep them fully apart, it was the first time that the weary leader caught wind of the scents that had intermingled in the ink-touched coat of the man. he smelled of places that illidan could not dream of seeing. wanderlust ate at his insides, but he did what he could to fight it away.
 
“illidan,” he offered his own name in a haggard voice, strained by an unknown force. the wildling then gestured with a swinging motion of his muzzle toward the sound below the cliffs. “i am the –“ but he halted in his statement, realizing that he had started to introduce himself as the beta of the pack below. this was no longer a true statement, and illidan was forced to catch his tongue before he slipped. “i’m the alpha of the pack below.” and even though the words had left his inky lips, the ghost did not believe that they were true.