The Tangle We can sleep and see 'em coming

illidan spent his time on the borders to ensure that they would not see trouble during their formation. the boy did not wish to admit that he preferred the time alone; that the bustle of what they were attempting to accomplish had started to carve a madness into his mind. he kept busy, because it was in this busy mindset that he could forget about his betrayal of liri and kavik. the trekking put him into a state in which he did not have to worry about how he would fall asleep. more than this, it ensured that their borders were clearly marked with a heavy scent and that there was a body present in case any should have drawn near.

it wasn't expected that the dark-hooded wildling would happen upon his brother again. illidan had imagined that ephraim had perished similarly to their father. internally, he did not mourn the loss of his sandy sibling nearly as much as the grizzled old man. to illidan, ephraim was the reason that kierkegaard had died. so, as the savage young man prowled closer to edge of their claim and drew his sights up, he did not even recognize his own blood. instead, his lip peeled in warning and he drew his crown upward.

that was, until he saw just who was on the other side.

“you...” his gruff voice hitched against the back of his throat on the way out. a fire ignited in the pit of his belly that caused his hackles to rise along his shoulders and spine. at once, illidan transformed into a beast that did not belong to the living world. his back arched and his lips peeled into snapping canines. the boy had become a savage hellhound.