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

most of what was said seemed senseless to illidan. he had grown to understand that there were a vast majority of those around him who were governed by emotion. there were few who found themselves inspired by their faith, and these he understood even less than those who relied heavily on what they felt. in spite of this, the young man had kept his opinions to himself – unless asked.

facing liri with a curious expression, illidan shook his head.

the question that was posed was difficult to answer without seeming callous and disengaged. he was aware enough to know this, but he didn't want to offer his gut-reaction to the woman who had taken him into her home and offered him a family. “you know, it should,” he told her. the sharp yellow of his gaze latched onto the narrowness of her muzzle for a moment.

“but it doesn't.”

in truth, the world had seemed empty since the day that the child had gotten lost from his family. it had only grown darker since then. while it would have been intelligent of him to realize that liri and kavik had made themselves available – lovingly and warmly – he couldn't grow out of the trauma that he had experienced. after a while, he didn't expect to.