Triton proved to be every bit as chatty as Anjula had feared. Strolling at a snail's pace as people from towns and villages often did, it took the three of them twice as long to return to the hut as it had for the two of them to initially follow his cries. Along every step of the way through the forest, he had different anecdotes to share, most of them geared toward him repaying debts to people and giving large amounts of money to the needy. It was obvious that his ego had been bruised by the necessity of asking for their help, and his autodidactic stories were some sort of a reassurance that he would pay them back somehow. Not that they wanted anything to do with the trappings of civilization; Anjula's people made a habit of rarely venturing beyond a ten or fifteen mile radius from their den, and Melas had long ago abandoned his people to live alone. Since the two had been reunited again, they both found that interaction with others had decreasingly less and less to offer.

However, the gesture was appreciated, and a man as nervous as Triton took hints as subtle as those he gave. Among his and Melas' people, women tended to walk in front of men when in groups; among her people, it was the opposite. Right away, Triton took the hint and deferred to the ways of the dark trolls rather than his own night elves, and walked alongside Melas as Anjula trailed behind. Even if he was rather harmless and seemed delighted to have been rescued, her upbringing still prevented her from being too open toward strangers, and she much preferred to remain out of most of the conversation.

That he spoke of things only people who lived in urbanized settlements cared about didn't help. Despite having been born and raised in the same society, even Melas occasionally fell into loops of disinterested affirmations and comments as he tried to keep up with the chatterbox. Unaware entirely, Triton continued to prattle on and the twenty minutes back to the hut felt like an entire day's worth of travel.

"You know, I once set up a functioning glue factory for a little consortium called the Venture Company. On top of scouting for workers, I was the one who designed the layout of the factory, too! Boy, those townspeople sure were happy to have all those jobs. Some miscreants in the capitals refer to such operations as sweatshops, but they don't know what it's like to actually work and pay taxes. Did you know that most people in the Blasted Lands don't actually pay any taxes? I've visited the Badlands multiple times, by the way."

"Interesting."

"And you know what? It just doesn't compare to Thousand Needles. It's surprising how much one can earn on the raceway when luck is on one's side."

"We be here."

Anjula's voice even sounded terse in her own ears, but she couldn't feel happier to have returned and finished the agonizing one sided conversation. So enthralled had their guest been in his own talking that he hadn't even noticed they'd broken out from the main body of the forest and entered a clearing. The canopy still came together above and obscured most of the moonlight, but that would only make viewing the area even easier for him. Standing still, hands at his sides, he looked even more ineffective than when they'd first found him; his very tame, urbanized clothing looked up imposing even when intact, but now that one of his pant legs had been tattered and the rest of his clothing covered in dust, he just looked useless.

Like a deer's face the moment before a spear hits it from the side, Triton looked lost and hopeless as he eyed the large mound of dirt, grass and vines before him. "Where's your hut?" he asked while staring right at it.

"We can sit out here," Melas said, ignoring his question and waving a hand such that the two flat, stump like wooden growths in the clearing rose a little higher to more obviously mimic the appearance of chairs.

Blinking and doing a triple take, Triton appeared to finally grasp what was going in. "Oh...oh! You're a Druid!" he exclaimed as if Melas' glowing amber eyes hadn't already made that obvious. "By the night, I couldn't have been luckier!" This time Triton didn't need to be directed before setting down his travel bag and sitting on one of the stumps, quickly opening it and pulling out an emergency sewing kit. "My apologies, but I can't stand to be see in such a condition; this will only take a moment." Immediately, he began cutting off the bottom part of his good pant leg, ostensibly to repair the other one and turn the ragged pants into passable knee length shorts.

Stuck with entertaining, Melas flashed Anjula one exasperated look as she made her way to the hut proper. A cheeky grin was all he received in return; it was her lucky day that they hadn't encountered a lost human barmaid or dwarven nanny in need of help instead. Saved by that lucky day, she promptly entered the hut, handed Melas one of their hand crafted waterskins from inside and then sat down to prepare some food in the peace, quiet and darkness of the couple's temporary dwelling.

From their bags, she found a small pile of cucumbers that Melas had grown at their last campsite using one of his long term spells (long term meaning a day or so rather than an hour or so like with the hut). Combined with two heads of lettuce and some apples, and the two of them would be low on food for the next few days. Regardless, neither she nor he would want to leave a guest hungry, even one as unwelcome as Triton, and she did her best to mix the cut apples with the broken cucumbers and loose lettuce leaves in a wooden bowl Melas had grown to make the contents look like a salad, a word she didn't know exactly why she remembered.

Outside the hut, Melas did a passable job at feigning interest, though the fact that Triton seemed to care little for what others thought of him made the job easier. As long as her mate didn't begin to daydream or possibly even commune with nature right in the middle of the conversation, they'd appear to be good hosts.

"You know, I really have so much respect for what people of your class do. I was once an officer at a barrow den - and it's an extremely important task that also involves preserving nature, that can't be stressed enough - but I worked alongside Druids frequently. Class acts, all of them."

"You don't say."

"Oh, absolutely. You know, I served at more than one barrow den, actually. See, we rotated similar to the women who roamed the forests, and those of us who possessed skills that were in high demand had to be shared among all the area commanders. You could almost say I'd become w connoisseur of unlocked achievements!"

"That's worth being proud of."

"Well, of course, I never let pride get in the way. It's not like I'm one of those types who enjoys prattling on and on about himself. But, well, aside from this little mishap in the woods, things were going fine."

"What was that quest you were on, exactly? You're far from the nearest town to have been traveling alone. Was it a gathering quest?"

There was a pause in the discussion, and even as she tore off more pieces of lettuce Anjula could hear Triton snort in disappointment.

"Yes...that it was. It's nothing, though. I just have to get over it and move on to other things..." His voice trailed off sadly in a way Anjula thought unbecoming of a grown man over one incomplete quest, and she found it hard not to judge.

Displaying a much different attitude, her mate tried to encourage the strange man. "In the past, our people were capable of such ideas; time belonged to us, and there was no such thing as procrastination. Sadly, such things are relics of a time that has expired; we can not wait forever anymore." The sound of deerskin on wood ground out and Anjula could tell that Melas had shifted in his seat, perhaps leaning closer to make his point. "If not finishing this quest will bother you, then dust off your knees and try again. Take it from me."

"Oh...I guess we both have things left on our to do lists!" Triton laughed unconvincingly, unable to mask further embarrassment in his voice at having been openly advised on his failure. "Do you also have an unfinished quest log?" the townie asked, shaking an object that Anjula assumed was the actual, literal written quest log he'd shown to them on the walk over to the hut. She'd almost laughed at him out loud then, and she had to bite her hand to prevent herself from doing so again from her listening spot in the hut.

Jingling a familiar chain, Melas shifted again and likely pulled out an object Anjula remembered very well. "This is an initiate medallion for the Cenarion Circle," he sighed, confirming that he was preparing to tell the brief tale.

Embarrassment replaced by enthusiasm, Triton's voice went up a pitch. "I remember seeing those among my Druidic colleagues at the dens! Those medallions are made from the sap of the Moonglade subspecies of purplewood. They're only good for a single entry for basic training, after which the wisps return them to nature."

"Exactly. This one in particular is over nine millennia old - nearly the age of Druidism itself. It's one of the handful remaining from the first batch of such medallions produced that haven't yet been used."

There was a pause as Anjula finished her work on all three bowls after having sliced the cucumbers into more edible pieces. Triton's voice when he finally did speak told of the man's confusion. "But the Circle doesn't make a habit of producing these so their members can hand out gifts. Is this...oh...I'm so sorry, someone in your family passed away before they were able to use it..."

"No, no, don't worry, nothing that dramatic," Melas chuckled, not a hint of discomfort in his voice at the pending confession. "This one is mine."

"Yours? But...but...you're already a Druid!"

"Self taught, self practiced and unrefined. I never undertook my basic training and once worked as a barrow den guard like yourself. I was destined to train as a guardian Druid and even honed latent abilities at the restorative and horticultural arts, but...after all these millennia, I've never successfully shifted into bear form."

"I don't believe it."

"It's true. Because I was too proud, because I felt too embarrassed, because I always had tomorrow. But as you know, our people's immortality is over; from what I hear, the Archdruid has wisely advised that it not be brought back. And so I find myself in a situation where I wonder where all the time went and what the fel I spent all my time doing. There's a sense of urgency that wasn't there before."

"Oh, for sure, you really need to get to Moonglade as soon as you can - don't let your talent go to waste!" Though Melas could easily keep his cool, Triton stuttered nervously as he seemed to realize what he'd just said. "I mean...you ought to share your talent with the world...no, wait-"

"Don't worry, I understand what you mean. At some point in the near future, I'll need to get serious and take care of that. And I do hope that, once you're on your way, you give that quest of yours another try. What exactly is it that you need to gather?"

"Well...it's so mundane, really," Triton mumbled bashfully.

"Tha food be ready," Anjula announced while finally exiting the hut. She could have waited just a little bit longer, but listening to their guest squirm was almost painful. In addition to being annoying.

Triton gladly accepted the bowl from her using both hands, looking only moderately perturbed that he was to eat without utensils. "Oh, this is a professional grade salad!" he beamed, almost causing her to laugh again at his exaggeration.

Sitting slightly behind Melas, she dug in to her own salad and the three of them ate mostly in silence. Mostly because Triton spoke with his mouth full every few minutes about how similar the greens and apple were to other salads he'd eaten at restaurants in strange places.

By the time they'd nearly finished the meal, Triton had begun yawning and he began to talk less. Not only was he full, but he also looked a little worse for wear after having been lost in the woods. After watching him, almost fall asleep in a sitting position a few times, Anjula moved to poke Melas only to find him already on the same pattern of thought.

"Triton, it can't be later than midnight, but you might not be able to find your way back to the highway in this state. Anjula and I have work to do around the campsite; it would be better if you slept for a few hours before you take your leave."

Forcing himself awake, their guest appeared a bit humbled but more relieved than anything. "I wasn't going to ask or anything...but if you're willing to offer, it would be rude of me to refuse." His tone of voice was completely unconvincing, and once again without even being told he took the initiative to rise and find a part of the earthen hill covering the hut that had an indentation in the soil and a cover of ferns that looked especially welcoming toward wandering guests. "Would it be alright if I sleep right here?" he asked as he already stood before the spot, having forgotten his travel bag back at the tree chair entirely.

"By all means; it's an ideal spot-"

Before Melas could finish his sentence, Triton more or less fainted into the spot and barely moved an inch on the soft grass before his eyes shut lazily, and his consciousness appeared to leave him rather quickly. A few minutes passed and Anjula continued to watch, just to be sure he was actually asleep.

Once again, Melas knew her better than she knew herself in some ways. "He doesn't seem dangerous," her mate whispered in Zandali despite the fact that Triton was sleeping, and snoring lightly, and didn't understand Zandali. "The only reason to watch him is to make sure he isn't eaten by anything."

More serious and less giddy at having been read so easily, Anjula was slow to rise. "When you lead him toward the road, make sure to wind around the woods as much as possible," she whispered back."

"I don't think it's completely necessary, but it's a good suggestion. There's always the chance that he could find us again and ask for even more handouts."

"Yes, we need to conserve our food."

"Not just that," Melas sighed. "He's going to ask me to help him with his quest."

Having finally stood up, Anjula trotted around to stand in front of Melas, who was still sitting. "What? I didn't hear him mention that at all. That would be really presumptuous."

"Not necessarily; I'm the one who brought up the issue of crossing off items on one's list. And to be honest, I think it might be for the better."

"Melas..."

"If we extend as much help as is reasonable - as long as we don't burden ourselves - he's less likely to stupidly try to find us again. And him trying to find us again could lead more outsiders to find us."

At first Anjula wanted to shake her head, but she refrained; she didn't necessarily agree, but it was logical enough that it might be accurate. And if her mate wanted to do it, she saw no reason to stop him considering he was the most cautious person she'd ever known. "I'm almost thinking that it isn't a gathering quest at all. Like it's some sort of kill quest where he bit off more than he can chew and is just hoping that you can do it for him."

"The moment I sense anything wrong, I'm leaving him, and I'll make that very clear to him when he wakes up. Until then, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he just tried to collect pine cones still on the branch or something inane like that."

Finding nothing else to say given the presence of a stranger, even a sleeping one, Anjula just shrugged, then nodded, then fidgeted until she found something to do. "I'm going to clear out the patch for more food to grow," she told him while walking toward the edge of the clearing.

For his part, Melas began collecting the bowls and waterskin to clean them all out after using his health magic to be sure that Triton was really asleep. Out like a rock, the smaller man slumbered for hours as the couple worked; he'd obviously been exhausted by his failure in the woods and would likely need quite a bit of help to get back on his feet. As always, duty called for two people living without the trappings of sedentary society and Anjula and Melas both had plenty of work around the campsite to occupy themselves for a few hours.