Barrow Fields Nursing the wounds of yesterday.

the other man turned to him sharply, offering a guarded look on his face. illidan halted his steps and stood rigidly in place, not wishing to startle the stranger or to inspire some act of defensive rage from the beast. the unknown male asked a question of him – if illidan was there to strike him down – but the wildling only blinked in surprise. did he look as though he was capable of such a thing?
 
dark circles had formed around the ghost’s eyes. his frame was ragged and tired, in spite of his youth. there was a somber light that had found a way into his gaze – like a distant lantern that never neared and promised nothing but disappointment if one should approach. “no,” illidan answered in a graveled voice. “are you injured?”