"You are doing to wrong, you idiot!" A cracking whip is nothing compared to the fury of this woman's vile tongue's thrashing, "place the back leg behind…no!" Gentle footsteps dance across the ground's fine surface, "were you born without a brain, or was your hindrance self-inflicted?"

I sigh, jabbing the iron rod into the moist dirt as she sweeps in, her shadow as dark as Deathwing's eclipsing wing, "Really, woman?" I cock my head, throwing a partial gaze upon her while allowing sight upon the instrument. "Why don't you get your hands dirty, eh? Wait. Or have you grown inept from your mindless servant's handling your every need?"

Tapping footsteps flutter upon my ear. A heavy metal slams forcefully into the ground, tiny tremors rippling from the impact. "Inept? I'll show you inept while I strangle the life from you with my bare hands!"

Glinting armor shifts into view, the metal bouncing meek rays upon my eyes. The vile temptress stands only inches away. Odd, though, as my knees dig into timid crust, that such reflections would find me with such ease. She must be closer than I initially thought. Not that it truly surprises me. Must likely a swift kick is soon to follow.

I reposition myself, shifting my torso to allow proper recoil when the devious snap kick is delivered. Casting my eyes in her said direction, I find myself instantly dismayed. When I said she stood inches away, I may have been overdramatic at the time. Now, with my eyes fixated upon her thick calves and thighs, I find the irony behind my sarcastic words: she is seriously inches away from me.

Thin chainmail litters her lower legs and interweaves into fine, gray olive-colored leather that hugs her curves in wildly flattering ways. Knee-high boots glorify the muscle-built sections of her mile-long track-runners and end at the belt that hugs her hips.

Once again, the well detailed, interconnected chain rings loop around her finely molded mid-drift and hang from the leather brassiere – though that may be concoctive in nature I still say it because it makes her angry. She is most pleasing when angry…

You were saying? Young one, stop day-dreaming. You know it gets…weird…

Anyway…

From this angle and distance, I find it rather…difficult…to make past her chest, but her downward slanted brow and infuriated stare do a fine job at retrieving my attention. It is then, her blonde and silver hair dangling from beneath her leather encrusted cloth hood as silken strands of a jewel crafter's delight, do her elegant facial features beam forth.

Gnarled, maroon lips glisten while pearl-white teeth gnarl into a disgruntled frown. Gentle, majestically curved cheek-bones hold as the perfect prelude to that which fuels my internal love and lust. Just above her cheeks, positioned perfectly apart from her thin nose, is a pair of ruby gems. It is with these precious stones where burning waves of scarlet energies radiate as her ever-flowing malice.

These flames roll with her mood, and intensify the beauty within the initial orbs. They are why I go above and beyond to draw her anger. They are what dance within my fantasies and they are the source of my ever-spanning devotion to her Angelique features. Yet, as I gaze into these dazzling diamonds do I notice a strange altercation in their normal glare; while the fires still burn as dark as a raging inferno, her eyes themselves seem pinkish. Dulled, to put it bluntly.

You are just seeing things. Young one, maybe it's a bad angle?"

Sighing, I lose my fantastic train of thought as my inner-voices interrupt said focus. Though, the latter of the two may be right. Maybe I am simply too close to her to get a good view of her eyes.

You ninny, maybe she is too close to you? Young one, you know you can never be too close to her.

True. True.

"Starring again, Goldfish?" She shuffles, her shifting features luring me back, "why don't you take a picture? Would save me the hatred wasted."

Focusing upon her marvelous eyes, I raise an eyebrow and reply, "I tried, remember? You broke my camera, hit me with its remains and then you had to be restrained by Nathanos."

"I never said I'd let you keep the picture, Goldfish," rather oddly her eyes sweep side to side as if something catches her attention. The movement is brief and from her continued, unbroken voice I don't think she even noticed her own actions, "I just wanted to have a reason to hit you again."

I smirk, the words coming are uncontrollable, "you wouldn't hit me. Again. Besides, why would I need a copy when the original masterpiece is always readily available?"

Burning eyes narrow and in a swift, blurred movement she crouches. Once distance facial features draw level with mine. Every aspect deemed worthy are but few minuscule centimeters away. And her eyes, the burning, slightly dulled gems of beauty lock with mine. From this position I can feed upon her truest intent, her truest natural bounty.

Alas, as I lose myself in her, I fail to notice the frown, and I falter to react to her snapping mitt. Painfully her palm slams into my lower jaw while her sleek digits and thumb form a cup around my cheeks. She pinches…hard…

"You are lucky I have no desire to wander this cursed forest alone, Goldfish; otherwise I'd stab you and let you bleed out upon this bed of rotted grass. "

My vision is partially blurred by my own overlapping skin that is so kindly pushed inward. I blink, still fixated upon the gems. As I gaze forward I watch as her pupils darken, returning to the fine scarlet hue I so easily remember. Simultaneously my cheekbones begin freeze as if turning to ice. It takes but a moment for me to realize what is happening. And it takes equally as so for me to smirk.

Her frown shrinks, forming a tight set of quivering lips. She begins to inhale and exhale more frequently while her hand begins to tremble. Time and time again this is the same occurrence: my frost-fed person the counterpart to her ever-warming self. It is exactly the same as all previous events when we touch, flesh to flesh…

"Sylvanas." Her eyes oscillate her determination and willingness incapable of backing down. Her resilience is her only resistance against that which burns through her veins –my gift to her. "You cannot hide it. You are shaking. I can feel it. And I know full well so can you."

Instantly she releases her grip, narrows her angry brow and snaps upright. She grunts, her heaving chest still expanding and collapsing rapidly. "What are you…" she hesitates before she gasps and…

PHWACK, the leathery boot slams into my chest and sends me backwards. Stings and needle-pricks ripple across my chest, but it wasn't too bad. Alas, her raging voice and optical flames matching that of a forest fire tell me a story of future pain to come.

"Are you saying I enjoy that feeling?" She glances at the hand she touched me with, "That I get…pleasure…out of touching yout?" Her orbs pierce through her very palm, "If I could afford it, I would hack my hand off and slap you with just so I could inflict pain on you without gaining that horrible burn again!"

Her eyes drift back towards me. Once again the pinkish hue has returned to her eyes; though, strangely, while she stares at me angrily, it feels as if she is looking straight through me…

"I cannot believe the idiot that got us stranded here thinks I get ecstasy from his touch. Unbelievable!"

Instinctively I bound to my feet, the accusations wild, "I am the idiot that got us stranded here? I am? They told us to go in one at time. It was you that got impatient and dragged my supposedly slow butt through that portal together. You!"

I pause, deciphering her complete sentence. "And who said I thought you get overwhelming delight when you touch me? I just said you feel something when you do. Clearly you do given how defensive you just got!"

You two are a wee bit loud. Young one, quiet down…

Our voices echo across the forest. Mine reverberate behind her initial raging onslaught and fade to her second barrage, "Defensive? Killing you would mean I have grown defensive!" Her yells bounce across the forest, "That, though, sounds good right about now!"

You need to silence…

"Please, you have had a dozen chances to kill me. What makes this time any different from the last few botched attempts that…"

Leaping forward, the swift woman catches me in the chest and slams me against a nearby tree in a blurred moment. Pain rolls across my ribs and spine while gentle warmth cascades down the side of my throat. Simultaneously a chill caresses the exact thermal impact zone.

A moment passes. Her face is once again close to mine. An arm is raised and a blade is drawn. I need not look to know its location. I need not know if it caught me. She cut me. She never cut me before…

Her eyes narrow and she speaks: her voice firm, quiet, and quite terrifying, "The difference, Goldifsh, is that no one will be able to find your remains when I am through with you. "

Silence pursues. All grows still. All say for her heavy breathing and gently humming eyes. For a long, drawn instance she holds firmly against my neck. She sways not nor moves not. No movement that is born from the woman is the flame that rages from her eyes.

Suddenly her lips form into a gnarled, profound frustrated state. Steel is slightly dug deeper. An internal battle rages within the woman, and with its conclusion comes my fate. Though, as I stare into her orbs as I have done a thousand times before, I see the same rage, the same fury as prior. I see her…and her unyielding beauty…

And it is as if she sees something in me…

"Ah!" Loudly she screams, jerking back from my position. Instantly I throw my hand to the gash, only to find a feeble knick in its stay. She, unconcerned with my conditions, spins and throws her back to me. Grunts and groans rain from the rampaging woman as she leaves me and the strange elfish device behind.

I sigh, take a deep, calming breath and gawk as she marches into the thicket. Hesitant, I throw one last glance at that blasted hunk of metal and I know well of its uselessness. Casting my gaze upon her once more, I cannot help but push from the tree and slowly take off in pursuit.

Alas, I do need the woman. I don't want to be in the forest alone either. Though, as much as she hates to admit, she needs me too. That is quite possibly why she didn't just dig to the bone a moment ago. Possibly. All I know is that she is my lady, my queen, my angel. If only she could rid herself of that inner-demon. Then, maybe, she wouldn't be such of a banshee.

But I guess that is what makes Sylvanas Windrunner who she is…

I just wish it didn't hurt so much…