Not a day goes by in my mind when the flood of the illustrious purple leaves and soft evergreens dominates a few moments of my thought. Days where land, unspoiled by the ages, supplied an unlimited amount of happiness and peace. Where one could feel as young as a peacebloom bud draped in it's first taste of the morning dew. These were my recollections of the unchanging bliss that surrounded my time wandering around the western regions of Ashenvale.
Such are the memories of my younger days - more than a mortal life's age ago now, for I have existed for only a small period of years. Gelsir, our chief cook and lore-master is our eldest in this camp, but will never let on his age... for it is not normally the custom of our people to make such a deal about time (but recorded here for the benefit of history and for those not of my Night Elven kin). Two detachments of humans from their fortress of Theramore in the northwest are present, the youngest being a dedicated warrior of just 18 - barely enlistment age for her people but having no less courage, skill, and reason to fight against the evil left in the wake of the Burning Legion. Ask anyone in our camp about the memories they hold closest to and you will end up with a similar story to mine - however long they have walked this land.
- Asfalir Tyressis - Knight Captain of Tyrande Whisperwind