Bearclaw Valley "You have forgotten the face of your father.”

every thought that tore through her mind was unknown to him. the wandering ghost did not know how special it was for him to have carried the fragrance of bear on his pelt. to him, it was a miracle that he had passed through the beast’s territory without suffering harm at the claw or fang of the animal. somehow, the bear had not chased after him and he had passed through with no intention of returning there again.
 
fortune seemed to have smiled on him, however.
 
the wild violet-eyed woman bowed her crown and seemed to grant him access into the valley pack. illidan regarded her with a sidelong stare for only a moment before he stepped into their terrain and drank in the scent of the wild wolves of that pack. perhaps he should have felt more wary of the dark stranger and her questionable looks. the seething that existed just in the edges of her vision.
 
“what do i call you?” the tired ghost inquired of her, stepping to her side but leaving space between them.