Blacktail Deer Plateau he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father

the boy ventured through their territory with his head low and his eyes trained on anything that might move ahead of him. he had grown considerably. the length of his limbs was almost adult, if not for the youthful leanness to his frame. he still had several months of slow growth left before he would look anything like his father did. still, he was something to behold.

illidan had remained in the shadows for much of the pack's founding and for long afterward. he had not wanted to venture into the social world. in spite of what grezig had urged him to do, the dark-hooded young man had only turned to spite against the harsh lash of her former words.

he stood on the edge of their territory with a sharp glint in his gaze. somewhere, out there beyond their claim, his mother existed. and she had not come to look for him. that left a fire burning in the pit of his gut that he had not felt in some time. there was resentment there, but he could not place a finger on it. before long, he moved to mark the nearest stone before continuing along his patrol.