Fairspell Meadow the gunslinger's own moaning future

it was overwhelming, but the young ghost knew that if he passed through then he would likely not have to suffer the lack of senses and the trouble that would carry to him. he had trained his sights on the distant mountains and did not seem to sway from his path toward them. he could see where the jagged peaks tapered and fell down and he hoped that this would provide him with a safe place to cross through them to the other side. with thick clouds overhead, illidan imagined they would suffer further rainfall before he made it through the meadow.
 
the gunslinger’s ears turned, swiveling atop his crown and cupping to listen to the noises that sounded from ahead of him. the berry bushes were tall enough to conceal any wolves that might have followed him into the territory. the bear that was ahead of him turned and began to lumber directly toward illidan’s path. he stood with stiff limbs and a hesitant shifting of his weight, unaware of the two-toned follower who was nearby.