Thunder Bluff, sometime in the future

The Highmountain tauren that came to help guard Thunder Bluff- either for training and seasoning or permanently -walked a different path than the Bluffwatchers. Unmatched at picking out threats from afar, even in the depths of night, they were often focused on the outskirts of the mesas, watching the plains spreading below or looking for signs from their comrades patrolling the roads. So the young pathfinder had been there for a while before she happened to see the lady of the Bluff walk the night.

The pathfinder stood on the ramp at the level of the High Rise. This late, it was almost deserted, with only herself, a few Bluffwatchers on patrol and the guards that ever stood watch over the High Chieftain's lodge present. She cocked her head when the great tent's entrance flap was pushed aside and a tall, dark figure emerged. What was Jama was doing up at this time of night?

The young pathfinder glanced around and noticed glances from the guards and braves but no one seemed surprised and moved on with their duties without comment. She stirred a bit as Jama disappeared behind the lodge, following the edge of the mesa. Where was she going? Surely someone needed to keep an eye on the High Chieftain's mate...

"Leave her be." She looked down to find one of the Bluffwatchers standing on the ground next to the ramp, looking up at her. "She won't leave the mesa."

"Is she all right?" The pathfinder's voice was equally quiet.

The Bluffwatcher was silent for a minute. He seemed uncertain how to answer that. "She won't come to harm," he said finally. "She just walks for a while. She never leaves the area. The High Chieftain's specific orders are to leave her alone."

The pathfinder caught movement at the edge of the mesa beyond the tents. Torches and a small bonfire in the center lit the main area but beyond the ring of light it was too dark to see and with her jet black fur, Jama was little more than that sign of movement in the night. Sure enough, she made no move to leave the High Rise, not even crossing the bridges to go to any of the other rises. She just wandered, occasionally pausing to look out over Mulgore. When she passed them, she nodded to them both courteously but didn't say anything, her dark eyes far away...and so terribly haunted.

The pathfinder watched her thoughtfully. She'd been very young when her people had joined the world to fight the Legion but she'd grown up on the stories, both about her own people and their newly found kin. Stories about that war, stories about everything that had rocked the world since the days of Huln Highmountain. And stories about Jama, great Champion of the Horde...and of Azeroth itself.

She considered some of those stories now with a different light as she watched that solitary figure wander, wrapped in her own thoughts.

She spoke softly again: "I suppose there's any number of things that could keep the Dark Huntress up at night..."

"Yes," the Bluffwatcher replied simply.

Baine Bloodhoof heard her come back in but didn't open his eyes. He didn't need to. At this point it had almost become a kind of ritual.

He knew the sound of her steps as she moved, knew when she paused to look in on the child sleeping in the next room before entering theirs and pausing again to watch him for a moment. There was a shuffle of movement as she picked up the figurine she'd left by the sleeping furs and put it away. She'd left it there as a reassurance if he woke up and found her gone that she'd just gone to walk. She was a restless thinker, his Jama, and if she needed the quiet and darkness of the night to work through whatever haunted her, that didn't seem too much to ask at all.

He felt her settle beside him and there was a long, still moment where he could feel her gaze on him. Finally it came; the lightest brush of a hand on his shoulder, trailing down the line of his arm.

Usually he pretended to sleep until she settled and fell back into it herself. The reason she made it a point to slip out when she couldn't sleep was because she fretted about disturbing him and he'd found that the only thing he could really do to reassure her when he did wake up was pretend that he hadn't. This time, however, he turned his hand to catch hers, squeezing gently.

"Baine...I woke you." He looked at her and saw the moment she stopped herself from apologizing since she had to know his first response would be telling her there was no need. Jama closed her eyes and then simply laid down beside him. "Baine..." Her voice was little more than a sigh as he gathered her close.

"Was it a nightmare?" She had them now and again. Not one of the bad ones, thank the Earth Mother. She hadn't had one of those in years. The ones that followed her even when she woke, leaving her unable to breathe and staring around without seeing anything but whatever horrors clawed at her mind until she finally woke up fully and just clung to him, trembling so hard she seemed ready to come apart in his arms.

She shook her head against his shoulder. "No, just memories."

And some of those were as bad as nightmares. For both of them in several cases. He tightened his hold on her and pressed his muzzle gently against her neck. She sighed again, sliding a hand up and resting it over the steady beat of his heart. "It helps. It's twisted, I suppose, but it helps."

"What does, beloved?"

"Just letting those memories fill me for a while, walking and letting them take over. Everything I am, everything I've done, everything done to me."

"Jama..."

She pressed a hand against his chest and lifted her head, looking toward the door and the room beyond before shifting her dark gaze back to him. "I let those memories have me for a while and it makes it even more comforting to come back here and be reminded of why it was all worth it."

Baine closed his eyes, pulling her back against him. "Jama."

She curled her arms around him and they laid that way for a long time, not needing to say another word.