Uhrk.. my head.. where am I? Groggy amber eyes fluttered upon, peering sleepily at their surroundings.
"Ah, you're awake!" a female voice came from nearby. "Sister Thellandria Cinderpelt, it is so good to see that you are alright."
Thellandria felt a hand rest on her back; a chill ran up her spine, and she turned her head to see a violet-haired night elf woman smiling down at her. Immediately, Thellandria relaxed and smiled back, if a bit faintly. "Hello," she replied in a raspy voice, finding herself a bit hoarse. "Thank you so much for saving me. Who knows what creatures could have found me in the forest, had you not been there?" She tried to sit up, but found herself rather sore.
"There, there, lay back down again and rest. Don't trouble yourself," the violet-haired woman crooned, reaching over with a damp cloth to dab the druid's periwinkle face.
Thellandria let out a sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, then looked up again. "You seem to know my name, probably from a token in my bags.. but what about yours? What am I to call my savior?"
The violet-haired woman chuckled in amusement. "I am Rishe Clawfern," she said, still wiping at the druid's head with her cloth. "You are quite lucky to have not broken anything—not even your armor, save for a few scratches on the way down. Your hippogryph broke the fall very well."
Thellandria became lost in thought. Rishe Clawfern... Something told her she would not forget the name any time soon. Rishe's face was peculiar; her markings were unfamiliar to the druid. They looked almost like little flames leaping up around the sides of her cheeks, cradling her glowing silver eyes. What odd tattoos, Thellandria thought to herself. A family tradition, surely. How interesting!
Suddenly, she blinked and looked around. "My hippogryph! Where? Where is he?" she asked, glancing about wildly.
Rishe placed a hand soothingly on Thellandria's shoulder. "Dear sister, I am afraid there was nothing we could do. At least we can guarantee that he died a swift death, as soon as he hit the ground. There was no suffering."
Thellandria's eyes began to water, but she blinked them away and took a deep breath. "I.. I understand. I am glad he was not in any pain," she replied, then tilted her head. "We? Who else are you with?"
Rishe opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off as another figure emerged from the bushes nearby. "Me," the emerald-haired night elf man said. "Lirandil Clawfern. I am Rishe's brother." He dipped his head, then leaned down and placed a collection of vegetables and fruits on the ground. "I've been out gathering supplies."
"We've been camped here for a few days," Rishe explained, exchanging a quick glance with her brother. "We heard you fall, and we rushed you back here as soon as we could."
Thellandria nodded slowly. "I see. Well, thank you. I'm not entirely sure what caused the fall.. it was as if something had struck my hippogryph with great force, knocking it down." She furrowed her brows and grimaced. "I'm not sure what that something was, though."
"Your mount may have been fatigued, friend. If he was tired enough, even something as insignificant as a gust of wind could have brought him to the ground," Lirandil said, glancing up at Thellandria.
The druid inclined her head in assent, then slowly started to rise up into a sitting position again. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the pain and soreness. "Right," she puffed, then looked around. "Well.. I'd best be going, I suppose. You've been ever so kind, really.. let me know if there is anything I can do to return the favor, but.. I've lost so much time now that I am without a mount; I really cannot spare another minute."
"Surely you need rest first!" Rishe protested, then sighed in defeat and peered curiously at the druid. "Where exactly are you off to in such a rush, if you don't mind me asking?"
Thellandria's gaze hardened slightly. "Revenge," she replied simply. "I would rather not go into greater detail." She furrowed her brows as she recalled her mission, but she chose not to speak any further.
Rishe frowned a bit, but nevertheless reached out to help the druid rise to her feet. "Well," she said as Thellandria began regaining her footing. "I won't stop you, but.. please, allow us to give you one of our hippogryphs." She whistled, and a black-feathered creature came striding over. "This is Nightwind. She will take you wherever you may need to go."
Thellandria shook her head. "Oh, no, I couldn't! Thank you so much, though. You are too kind."
Rishe smiled a bit, then took Nightwind's reins in her hands and placed them in Thellandria's. "No, really, we insist. It is the least we can do, after the awful tragedy you have experienced," she said, patting the druid calmly.
Thellandria smiled in return, then laughed a bit. "Alright, alright, I'll admit defeat," she joked, taking the reins and gripping them tightly. "But really, I am so very appreciative of everything you have done. If there is anything you need, feel free to call on me. I will come."
Rishe dipped her head respectfully, then looked up and jumped. "Oh! I had almost forgotten the necklace! Lirandil, would you be a dear and go fetch it?" she called over her shoulder, causing the man to hurry to the other side of the camp, searching through a bag and pulling out a golden chain with a simple orange pendant attached to it. He brought it over to Thellandria, who blinked in surprise and curiosity.
"It is a family tradition," Rishe informed the druid. "Each and every Clawfern keeps a few of these necklaces on hand. They are a symbol of good fortune and well wishes. It is our custom to gift them to any travelers who we deem worthy." She smiled warmly. "And you, my friend, are certainly worthy."
Thellandria's eyes widened a bit, but she smiled in return and extended her hand. "I am so very flattered," she replied, wrapping her fingers around the chain as Lirandil placed it in her palm. "I will not forget your kindness."
The druid turned to face Nightwind, then paused for a heartbeat as she looked the creature over. Something glinted in the hippogryph's orange eyes, but when Thellandria approached it, the animal merely nickered a bit and bent down, allowing the woman to climb atop. She smiled gently and gave the creature a little pat on the neck. "We will work well together; I am certain, my great friend." With that, she waved a hand to the other two elves, then took off into the air.
Branches and leaves soared past her, and she smiled as she felt the wind brush against her skin. While Nightwind flew, Thellandria glanced down at the necklace within her hands. She felt the strange urge to wear it—to clasp it around her neck. She had initially planned on simply storing it in her bag, but it was really very beautiful. It would seem a shame to shove it away somewhere.
It glistened temptingly in the dying sunlight that shone through the trees as night began to creep closer; she blinked at it once, then reached up and fastened it around her neck. She took a deep breath, then suddenly recalled her mission once more. Anger filled her as the memory returned.
Earlier in the month, Thellandria had been given a journal by a friend of hers. In the earlier letter depicting Galondel's demise had been the key to finding out exactly who the corrupt Paladin who struck down her mate was: Frederic Bennet. However, in the journal was something just as valuable—his personality. The wheels had been turning in her head, and she knew exactly what she had to do.
She managed to drop a "hint" to the man, once she had found him, that there was a great treasure to be uncovered in Silithus, and that she would have gone after it herself, but she was still too weak to travel after recovering from her pregnancy. This was a complete lie, of course, but she knew it would work. From reading the journal and from asking around, she found out just how truly greedy this man was, and she knew exactly how to manipulate him into doing what she desired. She even pulled out an ancient scarab statue—which was really just a little clay trinket she had purchased a couple of days prior—to show what had been discovered by a friend of hers.
She knew he would come alone. He was far too obsessed with his own fortune; he would not risk alerting others to the "great treasure" of Silithus. It was on this avarice that Thellandria relied, and she knew in her heart that her trust was not misplaced. He would come.
Thellandria stroked Nightwind's feathers with one hand and gripped the reins tighter with the other. Dusk was falling like a shroud over Feralas, and with it, the druid's fury and determination grew.
He would come.
And she would be waiting for him.