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

it didn't escape astara how in tune illidan was to her movements. he kept space between them, carrying a respectful pace just behind her. his posture spoke of subservience -- his gait matching hers stride for stride in unison.

few things were more daunting than two wolves in tandem. astara turned back to him once, surveying him silently as he was lost in his thoughts. no doubt the silence lent to such musings -- astara was often lost in her own as well.

along their path came the faint scent off a fox. astara's pace quickened, ears forward and features intent.

together, illidan and astara hunted -- and for a brief spell of time, astara's heart was free of any worry.