A pair of amber eyes shined in the foliage, a lone beacon in Teldrassil's night. The elf they belonged to grinned, a savage, feral grin. Her quarry stood just a few yards ahead, blissfully unaware of the danger at his back. Still grinning, the elf drew a knife, a cruel-looking, ridged thing, already bathed in red. With hardly a rustle, the she-elf advanced. The amber glow disappeared.
Moments later, they once more shined through the undergrowth, mere feet from the other elf now. The she-elf could hear the others breathing, and see the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. She considered him for a second, idly twirling the knife. A second more, and she was moving forward, knife ready. With a cry, she leapt. "For Elune!" She shouted as she latched onto the other elf's back. He stumbled forward, knocked off-balance by the sudden weight on his back. As her knife began a trail of red across his throat, her legs snaked in between his and she began a steady outward pressure, forcing the larger male to his knees. As his knees touched the ground, she disentangled her legs and gracefully rolled back and away from him.
She picked herself up from the ground and surveyed her work, pleased. But instead of seeing the other elf face down in the dirt, dead or soon to be, she saw he was sitting up and laughing, a rich, booming sound. He wiped the red line across his throat off as a smile spread across his face. He sniffed it, and a merry glint appeared in his eyes. "Potion. An ironic touch, Syralin." He chuckled as he wiped it off on the nearby grass.
The she-elf, Syralin, bowed, a matching smile on her face. "Thank you, Sinedar," she replied, "I thought you might appreciate it." She approached the fallen elf and offered him her hand, a small, blue-tinged thing. Sinedar's hand, a stark contrast to Syralin's due in no small part to its massive size and rough, purplish skin, reached out and enveloped her's in a firm grip which he used to pull himself to his feet. Sinedar grimaced as he regained his footing, rubbing his grass-dyed knees. He let out a mock sigh and shook his head.
"Some days I feel like I'm getting to old for this. Nice touch with the legs, by the way. Ingenuity will keep you ahead of the rest." After a second's thought, he added, "And leave the Horde without knees." Sinedar smiled at his pupil, in part to let her know he was joking, and because he was proud. Syralin had come a long way since that day her mother, an old friend of Sinedar's named Kairelia, had brought her to him. He remembered the considerably smaller night elf that had once stood before him, stubborn and inexperienced. Well, he thought wryly, only one of those have changed. And it's not the stubbornness.
Syralin blushed at Sinedar's praise of her skills, which he quickly noticed. Never one to let a student grow arrogant, he quickly added, "That 'For Elune' business should stop, though. You'll never have the drop on anyone if you announce yourself to everyone in Northern Kalimdor."
At his words, Syralin crossed her arms and gave her mentor a pained look. "I surprised you, even with the shouting. And if I'm fast enough to surprise an elf, I can surprise anything."
"You are fast," Sinedar conceded, "but I cannot claim to be one of Azeroth's best. In every combat situation you find yourself in, you must act as if you are facing a master. Underestimating an opponent is the last thing you'll do."
Syralin was somewhat mollified by Sinedar's explanation, but her pride could not let her soften completely. "You've seen me with a sword." She pointed out as her fingers traced a path along her knife. She continued, "I can last long enough to find a way to escape." She smiled confidently.
Sinedar sighed and shook his head. "And what if your opponent has an axe? A mace? Then what?" He questioned. "You can't parry weapons like that. And you can only dodge for so long." As Syralin opened her mouth to retort, Sinedar sharply raised his hand to silence her. "This is something that you will eventually realize the folly of and fix. You've passed my test, and your work with me is finished. I have turned you from a defenseless girl into an able fighter, capable of holding your own against even the Sentinels. And," he grinned at his student, "I believe that is cause for celebration."