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

her voice was soft as it reached him. the boy felt a twinge in his heart that he could not describe, and so he smothered it as best as he could. it would have been good of him to listen to the woman, even if he could not understand where she was coming from.

liri spoke of happiness and what could be done to save him from the dark shadow that had found home in his bones. though he words were said with love and care, illidan did not understand why she had felt it was so important that he find something he did not fully grasp. still, the boy listened and stopped himself from interrupting her immediately. he had learned some patience with them; he had at least learned something.

once she had finished, the boy felt his features fall and his dark lips slipped into a thoughtful frown that creased his youthful features. prayers and happiness seemed all so fanciful to him. but it seemed to mean a lot to liri, and he could tell as much by the way that her brow was creased with concern. something about what she had told him seemed to settle poorly with her.

“i am not searching for happiness,” he informed her with a small shrug of his youthful shoulders. “i do not think it exists.”