Bearclaw Valley and it was for only one of two things: opening or leaving closed

the dark woman placed a paw on the kill but did not pick it up. illidan feared he must have done something wrong to have offered it to her. perhaps he had stepped out of place – it was not proper for a lowly newcomer to offer such things to the leader of the pack. for the longest time, he could not pull his sights away from her claws resting on the prey’s shape. when he had swallowed the lump in his throat and drew his attention back up to her, his gaze fell on the questioning glance he had received.
 
“to thank you,” he spoke haggardly.
 
she had accepted him into her fold and had granted him a home without having spoken to him. he felt this was a tremendous thing to grant a lost soul. the gift was not a contractual obligation, no. illidan believed that he owed the dark witch and he would be left to repay her kindness in any way that he could manage.