A/N

Giving Brightwing similar treatment to what I gave Tassadar, namely converting Heroes of the Storm gag quotes into narrative form.

Flutter Flutter

"I like happy things, like puppies, and rainbows, and dead enemies."

"Well, I like puppies at least. But crossbows and long walks on the beach are more my thing."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. After visiting Whimsyshire for the billionth time, you get pretty sick of rainbows."

Brightwing decided she liked her new friend. The not-flying, black-haired thing named Valla. Valla was nice. Valla was not her enemy. Valla looked quite tasty.

"I have decided that we shall be friends!" declared the faerie dragon, fluttering her wings in excitement as they watched Arthas impale a screaming minion. "Please let us be friends! You don't want to be my enemy."

"Umm…"

The minion get out a final shriek before falling silent.. And friend-Valla turned to Brightwing.

"Friends," the demon hunter-friend said. "Sure."

"Yay!" Brightwing giggled, before breaking out into song. "Flutter-flutter, flutter flutter…" She trailed off, as friend-Valla stared at her. "What? It is fun."

Friend-Valla didn't say anything. So they remained in place as-

"Um, excuse me?"

Brightwing turned to find a minion looking at her. Minions were clad in armour, and were hard to eat. Minions were not friends.

"I was just wondering-"

"Why poke Brightwing?" the faerie dragon asked. "Ooh? Is it because you want Brightwing to gnaw flesh from finger?"

"What?!" the minion exclaimed. "No! I just…was wondering…if you could…y'know…"

Not-friend-minion gestured to not-friend Arthas, now cleaving through another wave of minions. Minions that were not friends.

"Come on," friend-Valla said. "Go and help."

"Oh, alright friend," Brightwing said. "Only because you are my friend. Friends play together. And slay together. And eat together."

"Yeah, whatever."

Giggling, Brightwing teleported. Right in front of not-friend Arthas. And the pile of corpses he'd created.

"What trickery is this?!" the not-friend exclaimed.

"Look!" Brightwing exclaimed. "I have wings! Isn't that happy making?"

"…the hell?"

"No smile?" the faerie dragon asked. "Why no smile? I like to smile. Especially when I kill baddies!"

The not-friend Lich King snarled and swung his sword. Frostmourne. Stealer of souls. A runeblade of unparalleled might…bar Nova's canister rifle, but that was another story. But stories aside, Brightwing easily dodged it.

"You are not nice," Brightwing said, frowning. "You would like my twin brother Darkwing." She dodged another blow. "He is not nice. Like you are not nice."

"You will know endless torment!"

Still, not-friend Arthas swung his blade. And still Brightwing dodged his blows. The not-friend minions cheered.

"You speak not-nice," Brightwing pouted. "But Brightwing does not mind. Human words are often hard to make together talking. For expressing…things."

"Just! Die!"

Still no luck. And Brightwing said, "I will be very happy to tear you limb from limb if you continue."

Not-friend Arthas swung his blade. And to Brightwing's horror, it hit her.

"Ouch!"

She fell to the ground. She hiccupped.

"Brightwing going through weird phase right now."

Not-friend Arthas stamped on her.

"There it goes again."

But the blows kept coming. Her vision faded. It became greener. As if she were on her way to the Emerald Dream.

But the Emerald Dream is not a dream, and has no emeralds.

And the blows still kept coming.

Ooh, deep thought. Head hurts now.

Or maybe it was because her head was indeed being hit. And-

"Okay," Brightwing said, casting a healing spell. "Time to play."

She soared up into the sky. Her wings changed into those of a butterfly. A crown came to her head. A sceptre to her hands. Not-friend Arthas gazed on in terror. Not-tasty minions did the same. Even friend-Valla looked intimidated.

"Kneel peasant!" Brightwing shrieked. "For you face the monarch! And her wrath is cruel!"

"None compared to the wrath of the Lich King!"

"What about the Burning Crusade?" friend-Valla asked.

"Well, yeah," not-friend-Arthas said. "But we all know nothing beats Vanilla. I…" He trailed off, as if only now just remembering that he was faced with a homicidal butterfly. "Um…the Frozen Throne calls."

He mounted his horse. And fled. Giggling, Brightwing followed.

"Hey," she called out. "Come back!"

Not-friend Arthas was a meanie.

But he sure looked tasty.