Fairspell Meadow the gunslinger's own moaning future

the sweet aroma of berries that had been drenched by rainfall and washed into the earth surrounded the area inside of the meadow. it hadn’t really been the intent of the ghost to wander that way, but he was led by the scent absentmindedly. it wasn’t until he had stepped out of the cover he’d had near the mesa and into the stretching meadowlands that he felt the prick of wandering alone in an open area. this seemed to shift the way he pressed on. the traveler lowered his dark crown and prowled quickly in hopes that he might make it to the base of the distant mountain range in a day or two of time.
 
the aroma of the berries had done well to conceal any of the other fragrances in the area. the rain had all but washed away what could have been any markings by predators or hunters. illidan sought to remove himself from those lands in a short amount of time. the urgency in his steps carried him in the direction of a lumbering bear that hunted a few hundred yards ahead.