Ciren only glanced from the desk, finding no one to be in the room, her black hair tied up in a messy, tangled bun, barely even keeping the hair up at all. She rested her head on a bandaged fist, although if she was told not to even use it. Unfortunate for her, it was her writing hand.
She was a human, Shadow Priest, anyways. She kept a plain expression on her face as she glanced through the things, soldiers to be paid and fed, and things of other matter that needed to be done to assure her garrison's stability. Although she had a wish to keep all the gold for herself, she was being funded by Stormwind from tax and whatever else managed to get into their pockets.
To say her office was just, 'messy,' would be a quite large understatement. Large books, from all over Azeroth and beyond, were all over the wood floor, either covered with a thin layer of dust or falling apart, maybe both. The windows on the white brick walls were closed, and the curtains were drawn back, only letting in the dim light of the moon come in. Ciren honestly couldn't tell if it was day or night, but she slightly didn't care all to much.
She was certainly upset, and she would heavily prefer it if someone decided to walk in so she could complain to them. Glancing over to the letter she just started writing to notify a family of their son's death, she picked up the feather, her left hand sore and throbbing from being wounded, and having to write with it for the past two hours.
Her blue eyes stared forward at the door, and remembered Pandaria, eventually sending her back to the Siege of Orgrimmar, and she frowned in the silence of her office, a frown on her lips. After the Siege it was fairly simple for her, a nice change of pace, and she would think it was so for most of the Alliance, another menace ended.
She was somewhat envious of those that had attended the trial, her not being one of them, of course.
What it was like, she had no idea. But she had heard that the Black Prince, Wrathion, had supposedly set Garrosh free, claiming it to be for the, 'good of Azeroth,' or something along those lines. Ciren expected something like that would happen, Wrathion being a likely canidate to do it. He never really earned her trust, even if she was his, 'champion,' and she honestly didn't quite believe he even wanted it in the first place.
She could live with that, she lived with perhaps worse things for longer.
"My Lady, are you sure you want to be keeping up these searches for this, 'Malrose?' She's been gone for months, most likely she's dead by know if she's been kidnapped," a small Gnome Mage walked in, her light blue, carefully groomed hair, cut short, although Ciren recalled her once having a ponytail. She was a Frost Mage, from what Ciren could tell. Her armor was a light blue, with purple gems embedded in her armor, also sporting a tabard of the Kirin Tor, a group of 'neutral' Mages, lead by Lady Jaina Proudmoore.
"Yes. I've been over this with you many times," Ciren spoke in annoyance, her voice cracked from possibly yelling at someone a few hours ago.
"You know she's not coming back," the Gnome Mage began, "so get your head out of that tiny ass of yours and forget it."
"A Gnome saying I have tiny hindquarters. I might consider it. Bear in mind that you don't speak to your commander that way, I'd prefer you'd know that," Ciren sighed in annoyance.
"It's a yes or a no. The people you are hiring to look for her don't take that kind of stuff."
"Then no. I'm not forgetting it. Pay them the one thousand gold and tell them to try harder," Ciren finally said, somewhat regretting it as the Gnome Mage sighed and walked out of the small room, closing the door behind her.
Holding her head with her hands, bare, sore elbows on the table, she closed her eyes, remembering the merry, cheerfully Worgen Warrior she met only at the beginning of her expedition to Draenor, and she already meant more than the world to her, having lost everything already to the Horde. If she was also taken by the Horde.
It'll be the last thing they take from her.
But for now, she'll just be doing paperwork and falling asleep in the middle of it.