Whitefish River but the boy survived his refusal to believe...

there was an apology from the large male. illidan thought this to be a little odd; there was nothing that he could have done to know better where the plateau settlers had gone. while frustrated, even the young ghost could not blame him for his lack of knowledge. it seemed to be that it was just a common occurrence in the grand scheme of things. disappointment was everywhere; the sooner he was able to understand and accept this, the better off he'd be. so he simply shrugged a shoulder at the apology and offered a patient and forgiving bob of his head.

then, the large male asked whether illidan would prefer verbal coaching, or if he would have rather taken part in a spar. there was an eager light that shone in his eye at the prospect of such a thing, but he glanced toward the large gash on his shoulder and knew that it wasn't a great idea. if he pulled something out of place or tore himself open again, it was likely that he wouldn't make it home.

“i'm pretty scuffed up from the fight we had back home, but if you'll offer some words of wisdom this time... i'll do my best to spar you if we meet again?” illidan offered with a ghostly smile.