Zen'tabra was running along the beach in the tiger form, when she found Mal'jin sitting alone on the beach, in his troll form. She sniffed the air, and she could smell blood and mating. She shifted back.

"Mal'jin. Ya ok?"

Silence was her answer. She sat down next to him. "The elf?" She had to ask, though the bleak look on Mal'jin's face surprised her.

"She won't be back."

"What ya done Mal'jin."

"I raped da elfy, Zen'tabra." His voice was cold. "She was crying when I left." He couldn't tell her the worst of it. That he hadn't done so as a humanoid.

Zen'tabra didn't say anything for a few minutes, though she couldn't hide the mometary revulsion on her face. "I can't judge what ya done Mal'jin. I don't understand de loa on this. " The admission came quietly. "Dey the ones told us ta stay hid. Said we needed ta make good before we get found. Yet when others come, dey tell ya not ta act in the merciful way."

"I'm sure de loa got their reasons." Said Mal'jin. But the statement was lacking the confidence it would have had only a day previous. He felt lost, more alone than he ever had before. The loa he thought he'd given himself to shouldn't have wanted such a thing. Had he been wrong? "Ask de loa for me, Zen'tabra. Did I do the right thing?"

"Ya know dey don't answer right or wrong, Mal'jin. We gotta look for the path, listen for when they tell us ta change direction. They told ya not to kill. They didn't tell ya not ta… ta rape. Maybe they don't view sex the same way we do. Animals don't understand rape. Why should the spirits?"

"It wasn't a good thing ta do, even if the spirits didn't tell me not ta." Said Mal'jin. "I ain't never felt so bad. I took everyt'ing away from her. Her food, her clothes, her money." Her dignity and the smile she was wearing that first day on the beach. "How she even gonna get home? Maybe I made it so she can't leave and she can't stay."

Zen'tabra blinked, but she put her hand on Mal'jin's shoulder. "Ya still got a good heart Mal'jin. That's what ya need ta find ya right path." She paused, caution curbing her impulses. "If ya wanna return her things, make sure nothin' identifiable. Maybe some clothes from the young ones, and the money to pay her way home. Not the staff or her books. Or da hearthstone."

Mal'jin stared over the waves. "I'd rather not see the elfie again. But maybe dat be my penance. I gotta try ta make it a little better." He stood up, brushing the sand off his pants.

Zen'tabra watched him go, sorrow heavy on her heart. She could feel Mal'jin's pain. She could see the guilt weighing on him. She was sorry that he'd been the one she'd had to ask to do such a thing. But most of the others weren't far enough away from the dark loa to risk temptation. They were still struggling too hard with their own demons and sins to take on new ones. Mal'jin had been doing better than most. To see him forced to take on such a heavy burden was heart-breaking.

Daryana stoked the little fire, while trying to figure out what to do next. She couldn't go back naked. She had no money. She'd never been good at killing animals, though maybe she could trap enough rabbits to make some clothing. Did Durotar have rabbits?

She rubbed at her forehead. She couldn't remember. Her hours of study seemed years away. She'd caught fish in her sea cow form and eaten it. Before, she wouldn't have ever considered eating it raw. She would have carried it back to her fire, and cooked it. The druids had told her she wasn't close enough in touch with her animal nature. If she had been, she wouldn't have thought twice about eating in her form. The thought nearly made her laugh, though the bitterness and bile choked it off. Well, they couldn't say that any more. She'd never read about a druid being in tune enough to fornicate with an animal.

Now, as she stared in the fire, she recognized why she'd been so desperate to be an explorer, to serve in the sense that seemed closest to her books and beloved writing. She wasn't a good druid. She'd had trouble taking on the form of the bear, though the sea cow had come easily. She'd liked swimming. She could identify with the peaceful nature of the sea cow. The violence and strength of the bear had been too hard for her to understand. Calling on the spells of Elune had not always worked either. Her spells were weak and unreliable. She'd prayed and prayed for something to fix her. For something to justify the moonlight that had chosen her path as a druid.

It had been such a good omen. It was rare that the moonlight came especially to choose a druid, when they stepped into the moonwell to pray to Elune for guidance. Most often the young ones left to pursue the occupation they wanted. She had been planning to try and apply to the tree-tenders. But when she had stepped into the moonwell , the moonlight had shone, and she had walked as if in a dream straight to the druids to tell them that Elune sent her.

Her teachers had been surprised by her lack of progress. She'd even heard them whispering sometimes, wondering if the moonlight might have been mistaken. She'd worked hard, but even she was coming to doubt her own vision. When she'd shown aptitude for scholastics, the elders had let her pursue that course without complaint, even relief. They hadn't been willing to let her go out into the world, when her powers were so underdeveloped.

She tossed another stick onto the small fire. Her scholastics had led her into disaster. Obviously this wasn't what Elune wanted from her. Elune must have been furious at her abandoning her training. Maybe if she'd tried harder. Maybe if she'd spent more time communing with the spirits rather than with books, Elune wouldn't have let this happen to her. She could still feel the pain down there, in a dull ache, a constant reminder.

She had no more tears left, though anger was slowly building. Elune had chosen her, and then left her to flounder. She could have sent a message. Could have given her gifts to prove that she'd had a reason for sending her to the druids. Tree-tenders never got raped by monsters. Why couldn't she have been left to her own dreams like her classmates!

Mal'jin watched her staring into the fire. The look on her face was wild, bitter, and angry. He wasn't aware that the same look hovered on his own face. He'd swum up slowly, so that only his nose and eyes were poking above the surface. She was alone, and unarmed, and yet he was still wary of approaching.

Come on Mal'jin. Ya gotta face ya sins. It was the first thing the loa had told them when they'd shook off the voodoo control. Admit ya sins. Repent. Atone. Surrounded as they were by the bones of their own people, some freshly gnawed, some hadn't been able to do so. They'd gone mad, and had to be put down. Despite the rumors, the Darkspear trolls weren't cannibals. They held deep reverence for their dead, and being surrounded by desecrated bodies with an uncomfortably full feeling had been a horror that had separated the strong from the weak. The loa had ordered them to remain apart until they had reunited all the bodies of their victims, given them proper burial, and made sacrifices to atone for each one. There were many bones on the islands.

He slipped out of the water, slowly so that the splashing wouldn't alert the elf. He crouched at the edge of the firelight. Daryana was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't hear or see him approach.

"Why elf here?" He finally growled in Common. The way her head shot up and fear lined her face made the guilt in his heart twist. She grabbed a stick by her side, and held it tightly, as she dropped into a crouch. One end had been sharpened into a point with what must have been a rock. The point was aimed directly at his heart.

She licked her lips, trying to remember the words. Druids had to learn Common so that the tauren and the elves could communicate. She hadn't gotten very far in her lessons. "I passing through." She said. Her hand was tight on her makeshift spear. Strangely she wasn't afraid. She could feel a territorial rage filling her. She'd had a bad enough day. She didn't need a troll on her island.

"This troll land. Elf land far away, over sea. You go."

She bared her teeth at him. She felt an unfamiliar burn of rage. She had nothing left to her but her measly tent, and her firepit, and she'd be damned if it would be taken away. She stood up.

"No trolls on this land. Elf here first." She stamped her foot, and swung the spear around to indicate the measly little bit of island, before bringing it back to point at his throat.

Somewhere back in the back of her brain, Daryana could hear the old her wibbling in fear. The old her wanted to bring up all the things it had read about trolls, as a good reason to run. But the new her stood her ground. There was nowhere to run. She was fighting for her survival, and for the first time, she understood the feral desperation of the animals cornered by the hunters.

Mal'jin frowned. The elf was different. But then again, so was he. He hadn't been happy to find himself capable of such cruelty, even to an enemy. But the spear point was pointing at his throat, and it was disturbingly steady. Where had this fight been this morning? He was aware that to an elf, trolls weren't any less scary than predators. He was tall even among his kind, and his muscles were well-built, even over-developed from Zanzalane's manipulations and potions. He was also wearing his armor and the staff that currently rested across his thighs. She should have found him just as scary as the tiger. He was confused. She should have been broken, crying, and afraid. Not defiant, feral, and angry.

"All islands troll. Elf passing through, not elf land. Troll stay, is troll land." He hoped he was saying the right thing. His Common had been acquired from the goblins in Ratchet, and they talked so quickly he wasn't sure he'd heard properly half the time.

"Elf … hurt. When hurt better, elf leave. No trespass. Trolls leave alone. Elf leave alone."

Mal'jin winced. He knew how she was injured. He'd done it.

Daryana waited for him to ask how she was injured. She had no obvious injuries, and she'd already decided she was going to say she was sick.

"How long elf stay."

She blinked. She hadn't expected that. "Seven suns." By then she should be able to trap some rabbits or catch some fish. Enough that she could pay for passage back to the Moonglade. And by then she should be able to swim all the way to Ratchet.

Mal'jin rubbed his head, and made a clear pretense of looking around her camp. "Where elf things? Other elves have?" He gestured at his own armor, and the bag on his shoulder.

"No other elves." She said as emphatically as she could.

"Where elf things?" He insisted again.

"Stolen."

"No other elves?"

"No."

The troll thought about it. "Mal'jin stay to help elf. Make sure elf leave when not sick." He tapped his chest when he said his name. The elf's blue eyes narrowed to a squint.

"Why?"

"Spirits no like … bad kill. Kill elf child bad." He deliberately used the word child, to make sure they were both clear on how he saw her.

She crouched down again, thinking. She didn't like it, he could tell that much. But she wasn't stupid enough to push the issue. Her glance went to the lights of Sen'jin Village. She would assume he wouldn't find it hard to get friends, and he was pretty sure they both knew she wouldn't be able to kill him.

"Agree." She then drew a line in the sand, going through the middle of the fire-pit. "You half. My half. No trespass." She made jabs with the spear to indicate which was which, with a final threatening jab in his direction to indicate the idea of consequences.

Mal'jin nodded. "Agree." The troll lay down near the fire place, on his side, careful not to touch the line she'd drawn. She glanced back once at him, before ducking into her tent to sleep.