What's in a name?

I wonder sometimes how much our own names have an impact on our lives. Some races, I can only assume, don't have this concern. For their names, though creative, lack meaning. Shu'halo names are different. I know where mine came from. Tiponi, named after a great warrioress. An adventurer, a brave heroine. She was the most amazing Shu'halo to ever come out of my tribe, and she was my grandmother. She told me it's meaning, one day high on a hilltop as we gazed out across the plains of Mulgore. "Child of Importance." How did they know she would be so? And how can I possibly live up to her name? I wonder how things would have been different if I had instead been named "She destined to fail." It's like a weight hanging over my shoulders. No matter how hard I try to live up to my grandmother's namesake, I simply cannot compare to a legend.

What's in a name?

I am no longer an Earthspear, but kin of the Stormtotem tribe. It's only a name change. Only a name... Yet it represents a change in ideals. I... do not know what to make of it yet. We are the same tribe, and yet we are not. I suppose time will tell how deep the changes lie...

It is a time of change for me too. I have seen battle before, as a helpless bystander. I have been in fights to the death, and I have emerged with blood on my hands. Never yet have I waded onto the field of war. No longer.

Today, Lohawq took me into Warsong Gulch. I was to lend my spear to the armies of the Horde. I swore I would do him proud. We made our way into Ashenvale, and although I was nervous, I was also excited. This was a test of my skills, a test of whether I am worthy for the title of Brave. The field was littered with the skeletons of war. Not people, for the bodies of each side were removed during the night, but the wrecked remains of ballistae and ruined flags dotted the landscape. As the sun rose, both sides stirred, and then as one came together like a mighty wave. I lost sight of Lohawq at first, I was too caught up in the swing of battle. I barely even noticed my opponents as I cut them down. They were Horde, or they were not. Nothing else mattered to my blood-frenzied mind. The Alliance broke through the horde lines and we began to retreat. I looked around for Lohawq and couldn't see him at all. I began to worry that he had become a casualty. I found him, following a trail of blood into the back rooms of our camp. His ankle had been viscously twisted in a fight and he was unable to support his own weight on it. He could barely move. He would be easy prey for the Alliance. I made the decision there to stay by him and defend him. We were joined by an elf ranger who, upon a quick inspection of his wounds, took up her bow alongside us. Lohawq and her picked off any attackers from afar, and those that made it through their hail of arrows met my blade. I do not know how long the battle lasted, but it wasn't long before I heard the Horde horns sounding retreat. The Alliance had beaten us back today, but Lohawq assured me that such was the ebb and flow of battle, and the Horde would quickly recover the lost ground. Lohawq and I returned to Thunderbluff.

I met with the Head Brave Rakhalen to report our progress. He seemed happy enough with my progress and has informed me that in three days I will fight against one not of my kin, to earn my place as a Brave among the tribe. I am terrified.

Is it strange that I fear disappointing my kin more than my own death?