Silent walked along the tangled and uprooted dusty paths of Westfall, the night elf's multicolored eyes dull with her large ears tilted back, more of sagging down. She held a single wildflower that had been preserved for many years, probably 30 inside a tightly sealed glass container. The tips of her black robes kept on getting snagged on the bare bushes sticking out of the ground and twining through the broken down fences along the dirty pathway. She didn't react as the ends of the robes were torn bit by bit as she continued walking with her matted white hair dangling in front of her eyes.
Flashes of the scene replayed in her head over and over again. The serpent lunging at the mangled form of Fangdor, the tail of the wind serpent impaling him, Gindor on the ground in pain and near death, Moonttiger cackling… Her gloved hand clenched the stem of the flower in rage and she could feel a thorn slowly sinking through the leather. Silent didn't seem to care and just continued further and further.
She would never forgive Moonttiger this time… Possessed or not, she killed her husband in front of her own eyes! Balnazor could have done something himself, hell, Ichigo could have done something! Silent threw a wrath bolt at a nearby bird, the bird giving out a shriek and dodging, quickly fluttering away and moving away from the flying green ball of energy. Finally she had reached the place where she had been searching for: A cliff towering over the waters hitting against the rocky shores at the bottom.
Silent let out a weak sigh. She missed Fangdor, it had been quite a while since his death. The woman hardly managed to even take care of herself anymore. She was underweight, scrawny, exhausted and none the less she was now tinier than most night elves. The memory flashed in her head again even more vivid, the draenei known as Moonttiger smirking at her with her yellow eyes gleaming, the rest of her goat-like body a silhouette.
Wearily she shook the thought away and moved towards the edge of the cliff and lied down on it, gazing at the waters bellow as she pulled the elderly and drooping flower in front of her. Her own son hated her now for something Ichigo did! Ichigo tried to kill her, none the less everyone she knew in life that was still alive either hated her, was out to kill her, or she hated them. She was running from her past now from everything she knew. It took all the strength in her to not jump off of the cliff and leave the world that hated her and outcasted her.
She clenched the flower's stem once more in her gloves. If it wasn't for love, Gindor wouldn't had been born and maybe life would have been more peaceful, Fangdor wouldn't have sacrificed himself for her and would still be alive, she would have a lot less scars from the time Soldier divorced her and beat her to near death, Catheden wouldn't have had his heart shattered… If it wasn't for Silent herself!
At the touch of the flower's petals the very memories flashed into her head as the ghost of the girl she used to be. The day at the streets, Fangdor offering a bright apple to her when they were children, a few years later with him defending her from Voltriothos' blade, then meeting him in battle to near death, meeting him again when he joined the organization, rising to second in command, his multiple deaths and resurrections, his sacrifices for the organization itself, giving her the wildflower bouquet, him leaving because of his worgen curse, returning without it, standing besides her during the birth of Gindor…
Silent shed a few tears. "Goodbye, Fangdor…" She whispered in a weak voice and let go of the final flower of the wildflower bouquet. The wind picked it up and sent it fluttering into the air and past the horizon leaving the scrawny nightelf crying into the robe's sleeves at the edge of the cliff.