"Oh fer the luvva…" Brekk bent down and itched his left leg, though it was the right one that was bothering him. Larizu hadn't said anything about messing with the undamaged leg, so Brekk assumed that it was okay. Still, he glanced around warily.

His bow and quiver bounced against his back, jostled between the muscles there and the heavy sack he had hoisted over one shoulder. Luanne followed closely; she appeared much more interested than usual for her. She even appeared to be breathing as she crossed the sand with long strides. Brekk had uttered, "Keep the change," a dozen times in the past hour and he was grateful to be out of the now torch lit city and back in Durotar. As much as he preferred to avoid the river, he knew that the sand would be hot well before he planned to wake up in the morning. Keeping that in mind, he'd decided that he and Luanne would make the trip back across the desert, cross the bridge to the Barrens and camp somewhere close to the bridge.

The sack wasn't too heavy for a guy like Brekk, but it wasn't fun to sling around either. "Hmm… should lighten this up." They arrived at the river bank, near a line of stunted trees and Brekk settled on the ground after relieving himself of his burden. Dragging the sack between his legs, he unballed a wrinkled cloth and flung it onto the ground. Luanne strode over and settled on one corner of the stained and checkered picnic blanket. Brekk proceeded to lay out half of their fare: a dozen ham shanks, two-dozen apples, two bunches of bananas; a dozen loafs of bread, and a dozen pounds of beef jerky. Man he loved beef jerky. He didn't even care what part of the pig them things were.

Brekk brought out two of a dozen full water-skins that were in the bottom of the sack. He wasn't no mathemagician, so he just opted to buy things in twos and dozens. Surprisingly, he almost always got the right amount. Tearing apart the bread with shaking hands; he wasn't used to going more than two hours without eating a single thing, Brekk handed two destroyed loaves over to his girl. She nearly took off the end of one of his fingers, but he managed to jerk it away before she got past the hoof-like nail and into the meat. "Holy …"

Licking his lips in anticipation, Brekk lifted a ham in his left hand and ripped into it ravenously as his right hand fumbled across the blanket in search of an apple. It grabbed a loaf of bread instead and he shrugged, "Whnmbr" Whatever.

Brekk groaned tiredly, pushed his hat off of his eyes with one finger, and rubbed at his face with both ham-hands. Screw bathing. He'd just have to find a woman who really loved ham who would accept him and understood that swimming wasn't fun and bathing was overrated. He was a beautiful specimen of tauren maleness, only more of a handsome specimen because he wasn't into any of that funny stuff. He wasn't a hundred percent sure what the funny stuff was, but he knew he wanted no part in it. Brekk was all man.

Brekk was a tired young man. Yawning and shaking his mane, he rubbed his ham finger across his teeth. Gross. Time to chew some grass and rinse out his mouth, but first he'd have to take care of the ache in his bladder, which was what had awakened him in the first place. Then he'd sleep. Then he'd wake up and worry about his breath.

"Stupid sonofa…" he cursed his bladder for conspiring with the dozen jugs of water. "I tell ya, a man can't get any sleep without…" he mumbled at the malevolent gods of piss. Moving behind some trees, he fumbled with his belt, his eyes so heavy-lidded that they appeared to be closed. "Aw c'mon ya little…" he yanked at the stubborn belt that held up his pants-turned-lopsided-shorts. "I ain't got time for this," he wasn't lying. Man, he had to piss. Finally, the belt gave and he hurriedly opened his pants and snorted and leaned his head back, holding his hat one with one hand as he graced the side of a fairly distant tree with his gift of wee-wee.

Just as he finished, there was a sound just beyond his left shoulder. His ears twitched, blood-shot eyes flying open. Brekk buckled his pants… er, his new shorts and turned around, suppressing a yawn behind his closed fist. There it was again! Brekk stomped forward, his limp far less pronounced due to the wonders of modern medicine and disgusting secret ingredients.

"What the…" The sound was coming from inside of a big old tree, large enough that he couldn't even get his arms around it. "What in the…" It was a quiet shuffle. It could be a Night Elf. He hoped it was a Night Elf. "On accounta I ain't killed one since last night," he thought aloud. Even an idiot could see that a Night Elf could easily have gotten into that tree. Shoot, there was a big hole right there in the front of it and a skinny, prissy elf could certainly have shimmied right in there. If he were a Night Elf, the thought of him as a Night Elf made him squeeze his fists in rage; he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to hide in such a large tree.

Brekk snorted, the thick ring in his nose standing out momentarily in the mighty gust from his nostrils. His mane felt prickly as he pawed at the ground with one hoof, his agitation growing rapidly. What the hell was a Night Elf doing screwing around so close to his camp? What kind of disrespectful, purple-skinned, wispy moron would dare encroach on his constantly shifting territory? Maybe it was after his leftover food. Maybe it was fixing on kidnapping his Luanne.

"Oh that does it!" Brekk snorted. He lowered his horns and shoved his head right in the conveniently-located hole. "Hey!" he shouted, "Get out here and fight like a…" No was that was gonna happen. "Get out here so I whoop yer butt!" The shuffling sound repeated once and then stopped abruptly.

Luanne fixed her disinterested, blank stare on Brekk and the tree, or at least in that general direction. Her claws flexed momentarily as squirrel exited a small knothole near the base of the tree the tauren was yelling into. Blinking, she turned her head the other way.

Brekk snorted and jerked his head back. "False alar…" Oh crap.

The tauren braced his hands on either side of the tree, shoving roughly. When that didn't work, he took to punching it, but that only made his head ache. Brekk went back to shoving, but quickly ascertained that there was a very real danger of him ripping his own head off. More importantly, he was really tired and didn't feel much like struggling right now. Shrugging his shoulders - what are ya gonna do? – He leaned against the tree and closed his eyes. Somehow his hat had stayed on. He hoped it didn't rain. At least he'd had the good sense to buy a new vest in case it got chilly. Brekk wasn't no dummy. He'd made sure the clothier had unbuttoned the vest so that it didn't get ripped up on his horns. A man who learned from his mistakes was wise. Yep, no torn shirt for him.

Brekk snorted, tried to shake his mane but mostly just shook the tree. That was a good sign, he could rip the tree apart when he was more well-rested. Just in case…

"Hey Luanne! Do Daddy a favor and go find a treesmithe or somethin', Babe." There. Now all the bases were covered. All he had to do was wait. "Deja Poo," he sighed. In some fancy orc-speak that meant "Not again." Well, at least he didn't have a date to miss this time. Brekk let himself sag against the tree. At least he had a strong neck. He began to snore.

Three hours later:

Vaggar squinted up at the sun as he strode easily across the bridge that spanned the weakly-trickling Southfury River. He lowered his gaze to scan the horizon, but kept squinting. Vaggar was a squinter, and a sharp-eyed one at that. The late-middle-aged blood elf paused and squinted at the back of a familiar tauren, who was in an unsurprisingly compromised position. He might have smiled. He was certainly amused.

"Need some help, Brekk?" The tauren winced, broad shoulders rising as his tail began to flick. He'd recognized Vaggar's voice the minute the elf started talking. Vaggar was always ticking him off, making him look like a stupid idiot. Not to mention he was always talkin' to his bird, telling Brekk how to take care of her when he damn well knew what his girl wanted and didn't want.

Brekk snorted and spoke slowly, through clenched teeth. "No I don't need no damn help. Luanne went ta get a treesmithe hours ago and by my calcufications he's gonna be here any minute. You might as well scram, Vaggar." He said the word Vaggar like it was a curse. To Brekk, it was one.

Vaggar looked at the thick tree and the thick tauren who'd lodged his thick head in it. He turned his sharp, squinting gaze toward the shredded food sack, the torn bread scattered all around it. He locked eyes with the tall pink plainstrider that stood still as a statue, facing him.

Vaggar nodded politely at Luanne. Luanne blinked back mutely but remained otherwise still.

Squinting at the tauren's back, Vaggar didn't hesitate, "Sure thing, Brekk. See you later."

"Not if I can help it," came Brekk's clever reply. Vaggar nodded at Luanne again as he passed her. She settled down and tucked her beak into her back. Brekk pondered the myriad possibilities of ham.

Author's note: Hahaha "wee-wee"

The character Vaggar is one of my favorite creations of my good buddy Kolton. I have used him with his express permission. If a blood elf were Clint Eastwood but even cooler, I think that might be Vaggar. Brekk's more of a John Goodman type if I had to pick. Maybe he sounds like Baloo from Jungle Book? At any rate, I hope you enjoyed reading. Comments always very, very appreciated.

~I'wilo