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

morgana led the two of them into the thick of the pack, taking them down a winding red path that led to where the scents of the other wolves were strong. illidan felt the fur along his neck prickle; it had been a while since he had been around that many other bodies and he wasn’t certain that he had prepared well enough for it. the dark woman howled to announce his arrival and the ghost lowered his crown to her.
 
so far, she had been the only thing about that land that hadn’t made his heart race and his throat tighten. at least it was something, compared to the months he had spent wandering without any sense of feeling or direction. at least morgana had seen something worthwhile in him, in spite of the scrutiny she had openly shown. perhaps he could turn it into another home...