Barrow Fields a victim of love rather than hate

his mind was occupied with far too many things to have noticed the dark shape of the stranger that approached him. it was not until the youthful shadow spoke that illidan froze in his tracks and turned around to face the one who had spoken to him. it took several moments for the trance to fade away from his vision, but when he did latch his sights on the dark young man, he was more surprised by the age of him than anything. illidan had only just passed into his first year, but his body and soul felt as though they had aged through lifetimes. he wondered what he had looked like at four months of age – at two. the thought had been a pleasant one, at first. it quickly faded to how his childhood had been spent and all that had come after.
 
the question that had been pitched to him had been one that took him aback. his head reeled just slightly, and his ears swung backward before cupping back to the dark stranger. he thought to look at himself, as though the question had caused him simply to not be a wolf because it had been asked. he knew his blood, though. “yes. do i not look it?” he responded in a haggard tone and then inquired in the same breath.
 
something about cam being out there on his own, made illidan wonder where his home was. he wondered whether the young figure had intended to venture out that way. he wondered if the boy’s parents were battling with worry as they searched for him. all of these thoughts seemed to flash through his mind in an instant and he was forced to exit that train of thought. the young man had moved with enough confidence that he seemed to know his place out there. at least, illidan could only hope.