A/N: I've been aiming for Luar-ke's POV to show how her personality is developing, or reappearing I should say, as she's healing and her memories are ever so slowing starting to come back. Is that how it's coming across? Also, the first person who can figure out the ruse behind Laur-ke and Lar'ja's names gets a cookie, or a gold star. Or maybe a cookie with gold stars in it.
Chapter 9: The Argument
We're on the road today and I'm ignoring the troll. If I could speak, I'd be giving him the silent treatment. I'm so angry I want to hiss and spit at him, rake my claws down this back, leave a few scars of my own. I cannot believe the bastard mated with that orc again! And then, to come stumbling into my stall in the morning, hung-over, reeking of her like it means nothing to me. How dare he! I have feelings too! But did he take those into consideration? Of course not! Because he's just some horny, bloody troll who can't keep it in his pants.
I glance at Lar'ja. He doesn't seem perturbed in the least. What's the matter with me? Why does it even matter who the asshole fucks? Elune, help me, I'm starting to curse like a troll now too. Damn him. Am I jealous? Is that what this aching in my gut is? And for that matter, who is Elune and why did I just call on her, him, it, for aid? I'm so confused.
An hour later …
We've passed what, three springs? And he still hasn't stopped to wash that foul stench off?!
Another hour later …
Praise Elune, whoever you are, another spring. Let me just get a drink. Oh good, the prick is getting a drink too. That's right, just lean over a little more. SPLASH. That was just too easy. Oh dear, he looks pissed. Really pissed. Wow, did his eyes just go completely red? I had no idea they could do that. Good thing he's still kind of drunk, he'll never catch me. I think now would be a good time to go hunting. Alone.
A few hours more…
I can see the firelight through the trees ahead, and blessedly, the scent of clean troll in lieu of orc tramp. I creep up silently to scope out the situation, finding Zen relaxing cross-legged beside the flames, whetstone in hand, sharpening his dagger. Hmm, that's not reassuring. I wonder if he's planning on skinning ME? I'll never know if I don't take a chance. Hopefully he's forgiven me now that he's dry. I'm not really keen on getting stabbed tonight. I enter the ring of firelight, but he doesn't even turn to look until I lay my offering at his knee; a fat young boar. I guess my stealth skills aren't as good as I thought. He stares at it for a few minutes, too long… "You can breathe again, girlie; I ain't gonna make a rug out of you." Oh right, sweet oxygen! "I don't know what's had your tail in a kink all day, but I'll accept your apology." Seriously? Is he really that obtuse?! I want to smack him and remind him I'm the one that really deserves the apology. I thought our relationship meant something more. Ok, breathe: in, out. Count to ten and let it go. Take the high road. It's not like I can explain myself anyway. He only sees me as his pet; just an animal. Honestly I don't even know why I've been so worked up about it. It's just that I feel… kind of… more.
He couldn't help but think that Ashenvale had the most beautiful nights of any part of Azeroth. At least any part that he'd traveled. The muted greens and purples of the foliage fading into the mist while fireflies created a visual lullaby; and above it all the deep blue night sky filled with endless numbers of stars. Zen snuggled up against his furry, purring pillow. It was becoming a habit they both seemed to enjoy. Once the bloodlust had worn off after his impromptu bath earlier, he'd nearly panicked fearing he'd driven her off for good. He made camp soon there after, determined to wait, as long as it took, for her to come back to him. In his heart, Zen was sure their bond couldn't be broken by one tantrum on his part, but still the icy fingers of doubt crept up his spine. For the life of him he couldn't figure out what had possessed Laur-ke to knock him ass over tusks into the pond. She' been in a snit about something all day, but honestly he'd been too hung over to care. His heart sighed in relief when he sensed her creeping up to the camp, and he'd spent several moments quietly contemplating the kill she had brought. Was she apologizing? He looked at her then and could see the anxiety written across her beautiful feline face. Would he ever understand this female?
Now, their friendship patched up, it was back to business. Zen's plan was for their little party to skirt the edge of Ashenvale, along the border of the Stonetalon Mountains. This would ideally prevent them from crossing paths with any Alliance, particularly Sentinels, while making their way to Malaka'jin and then Thunder Bluff, whence they could take the Zepplin to Orgrimmar to sell the skins they'd collected. It was a trip of several weeks, barring any complications, and he was looking forward to the solitude. Well, solitude coupled with the silent company of his two best companions.
Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't mind stumbling across the occasional Alliance operative and summarily dispatching them. He was a dutiful Horde member after all. Truth be told though, he was concerned about Laur-ke's reaction. What would happen if she saw a Night Elf? Would she leave him? Turn on him? The very thought that she might revert to viewing him as the enemy was like a knife in his gut. She could dump him in every pond they came across so long as she stayed by his side. He'd never felt a bond so strongly with any pet, even Lar'ja, and yet it was the strangest pet relationship he'd ever had. With his previous pets, he'd been able to form a sort of mental connection, allowing him to understand their basic thoughts. That was not the case at all with his nightsaber and it puzzled him. While they did not have a direct cognitive connection, it felt as though they were one being. It was like they spoke a language only each other could hear, allowing them to hunt and fight as a single entity, yet no words were spoken, no thoughts specifically shared. It was uncanny. He'd come to the conclusion that her bond with her previous master must somehow be preventing him from forming the usual connection. It was the only explanation that made sense.
Zen though back to his childhood, when he'd first known he wanted to be a hunter. It was his uncle that inspired him. Un'gar was a big blue troll with a shock of red hair, stereotypical Darkspear, with a fine set of tusks and an eye patch. He's come and gone throughout Zen's early life, never sticking around for more than a week or two at a time. Zen's mother tolerated her brother's nomadic ways, but was dead set against any of her children taking up after him. Of course, her disapproval made it just the forbidden fruit Zen craved. He was ten, when, during one of Un'gar's unannounced visits, he took to following his uncle, determined to watch and learn his trade. Of course the older troll knew the boy was there the entire time. He put on a show for his nephew, creatively killing a variety of creatures, from lions to crockolisks, working in perfect concert with his raptor and lava spider.
"You can come out now, boy," he called as he yanked the teeth out a fat crock's maw. Zen's mouth hung open in shock. He was so sure he hadn't been seen, having practiced for months stalking his parents and trailing other tribe members. Finally the youngster plucked up his courage and dropped from the tree he'd been hiding in, bracing himself for a good tongue-lashing. Except his uncle only laughed and roughed up his unruly blue mane. "Smile lad, I ain't mad at ya. You wanna be a hunter then?" At the boy's shy nod, Un'gar just laughed again. "I'll be happy to teach ya, just don't be squealin' to your ma or she'll skin me alive." Zen just nodded vigorously, smiling so big around his budding tusks that his face hurt. From then on, Un'gar had an eager pupil, and the young troll spent every hour between school and chores learning from the elder troll. Un'gar gave him lots for "homework" when he was off traveling as well. By the time of the Sea Witch's attack, Zen already had Lar'ja and was far more skilled than the other young trolls in the tribe. His mother of course found out, and never did forgive her brother, though he was still allowed to visit. And here he was now, incredibly skilled and successful at his chosen trade, with the best pets the Loa could provide, even if one was a cheeky cat who pushed him into ponds.
The next week or so of their journey was spent leisurely making their way along the edge of the forest, typically walking in the morning and hunting in the afternoon before making camp. Hunting with Laur-ke was nothing short of a thrill. She was so graceful, so in tune. Zen would talk to her as though she were another person and he had the distinct feeling that she understood everything he said, and would have shared her opinions readily if she could. Sometimes he forgot she was merely his pet. If he was truly, deeply honest with himself, and he absolutely wasn't, he wished she was a woman. He'd never questioned his bachelor lifestyle, always convinced he was as content as he'd ever be, but sometimes, just sometimes, he'd find he wanted more. Laur-ke was everything, ok, almost everything, he'd want in a woman. At least a woman he'd be willing to claim as his own. She was beautiful, intelligent and gentle. A fierce fighter and skilled hunter. And she'd proven time and again that she had a sense of humor to match his own. Why couldn't he find a woman like her? For that matter, why couldn't she be a woman? Loa help him, he was not falling for his cat.
