Panther Park We'll win but not everyone will get out

The voice that uttered his name was not familiar but the scent that traveled on the breeze was—painfully so. Illidan. Kavik froze, lifting his head from where he had been inspecting the ground. He looked different, older of course. All these things that had changed in his life had kept him anxious and occupied, and he was ashamed to not remember the last time Illidan had entered his thoughts. So many questions swarmed his mind then; he wanted to know where he had settled, how he had been, what he was doing now. But he didn't want to bombard him. Kavik stepped forward, slowly closing the distance between them until he stood before the man he still considered family. Illidan, he replied gently. He was having trouble deciding what to say next. He was feeling so many things at once that he wasn't sure where to start. How have you been? he decided to ask next. He hoped he had been well. Memories of the conversation he witnessed between Illidan and his mother that day at the Plateau came flooding back, reminding Kavik of everything the other man had been through while he was still so young, and he prayed that he had been able to finally find some peace.