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

her question hung on the air without an answer for far too long a time. the wildling was not certain that he should answer, knowing that his response would likely cut her either way. for the boy, battling his emotions was a daily struggle. he had learned to cope with the night terrors that filled his head when he tried to sleep. he had taken to patrolling the borders until his limbs gave out on him and he was forced to rest without having to give in to the visions of terror that filled his mind. the more that he tried to keep himself occupied, the better he found things to be. this was his reason for hesitation. illidan had gone so long without facing the things that plagued him, he was not certain that he was prepared to handle the reality of it again.

“only if i think about them,” he finally returned to her in a raspy voice.

then, the dark-hooded young man turned his gaze and latched it onto the narrow features of her face. it was difficult for him to tell her that he was grateful for all that she had offered him. perhaps, she would know without him having to say. illidan had been with her long enough that she should have known he wasn't fond of verbal gratitude. instead, the growing man preferred to show her. at the edges of his dark lips, there was a flicker – a ghost of a smile that seemed to vanish just as soon as it had arrived.