((AN: Another little ditty from World of Warcraft. Galerunner is my 60 hunter on Silver Hand. Copyright Blizzard blah blah blah don't sue me.))

Serendipity - A Coming of Age Story
A World of Warcraft fanfic
By Kristin Renee Taylor

Part 10 -

"And that is how it ended. Well, not precisely like that, but I think that is a good enough place to end, if I say so. And I do say so because it is my story. Besides, I do not think you want to hear about the two weeks I spent lying on my back, to ill to do much of anything. Or how the wolf followed Mother and myself back to our home. Or the beratings I suffered for leaving so unexpectedly. Or how I eventually tamed that wolf after many days of getting him to stop eating my food.

("I named him Mistwalker, after my uncle's cousin's brother's father's Mother, who was also notorious for eating other peoples foods. There was this one time when Elder Mistwalker... But I am digressing-)

"I did what the Earthmother told me, and I have been very diligent in my hunter teachings. Or at least I hope I have. The Earthmother has not spoken to me since the day the satyrs attacked."

The massive worg's head lay in her lap, eyes half-closed and ears limp and floppy as it dozed. A brightly festive pink runecloth bandage was tied around its forepaw.

Oblivious to her pet's somnolence, Galerunner continued on blithely. "I never found out who that elf was. Or why he was in the Barrens with a bunch of satyrs. The Earthmother was most likely correct when she said that I had been sent by Elune to help the Night Elf, rather than the Earthmother sending the Night Elf to help me. Since then I have come a little closer to meeting Elune." A delicate shudder went through the Tauren's frame in remembrance. "I do not care to repeat the experience.

"I also did not discover who Mother was talking to, and I never saw fit to ask. It never struck me as vitally important, and there was just so much to do that I simply forgot it. And in a few years, Father died fighting the centaurs, Stonemaur and I journeyed to Mulgore to start our Rites of the Earthmother, and I haven't been home since then."

The rain had ceased an hour ago leaving the air laden with moisture and the distant sounds of birds calling to one another in early evening. The clouds had passed. Soon the stars would be visible; already the sliver of one moon ghosted the leaves and grass with a silver patina. Galerunner scratched her worg behind the ears with one idle finger, looking out into the falling night, but gazing inward as she rambled.

"There is a saying my tribe, and one that my Greatmother is very fond of using: 'A journey, once begun, does not truly ever end.' I often did not understand Greatmother; she may be wise, but she's also a little, er... the Goblins would say she is 'off her rocker.' Whatever that means.

"But I think that, in my case, Greatmother's saying has a point. I may have completed one part of my journey-" A small square of cloth, perfectly black against the stone of the cave floor, rested beside her. Faint red swirls of light twisted through the fabric, constantly in motion, sometimes forming words that Galerunner could understand. But she did not look at it. She knew what it said.

Who had mailed it to her was a mystery. The goblin that had delivered it to her just days ago would not say. But the stench of demon was strong on the felcloth. Its presence made her uneasy. She should get rid of it, and yet...

/Ware ye Shadowslayer./

To the worg and the night and herself, she murmured, "-but another part is about to begin."

Fin