Uyoga's trial haunted Cenahria for several weeks, even after the trolls themselves had stopped talking about it. The revelation that the troll had lost her entire family because of her kind affected Cenahria deeply. She enjoyed living with the trolls, and genuinely could not understand the hatred between the races. They treated her with greater respect than her own kind, and despite understanding why Uyoga had hated her, Cenahria spent a great deal of time wishing things could have been different. She could not quite believe that Vol'jin had been prepared to have Uyoga killed for what she had done. In Cenahria's mind, everyone deserved a second chance, even the troll. She didn't think she would forget easily the look in Vol'jin's eyes when she had deliberately placed herself between the Chieftain and Uyoga. Nor would she soon forget the look she had shared with Uyoga before she was banished. The troll was indebted to her now, she owed Cenahria her life. And she hated it.

Cenahria tried very hard not to think about Vol'jin over the next few weeks, instead throwing herself completely into her daytime meditation. Thinking about him made her angry, and sad, and she didn't quite understand why. She knew that if he had gone through with the execution, she would never have forgiven him, and that scared her. He was the troll Chieftain, and nothing more. He had no right to her forgiveness, or to her thoughts, even. Cenahria felt more on edge than she ever had, and so training became the perfect excuse to run away from the darkening depths of her feelings.

Her training was no longer confined to the tiny space allocated to the druid practitioners in the training grounds. Cenahria often travelled around the Isles with Zaria, and a younger male named Zanda. Zanda and Zaria were related in some troll way that confused Cenahria, but he was sweet, and she liked him a great deal. He had been practising druidism for less time than her, and so she often found herself practising with him in the evenings. Her Moonfire was getting stronger now, even in the daytime, and it wasn't long before she was destroying the wooden dummies completely. Zaria's arm took time to heal, but Cenahria used it to practise her healing techniques, and soon began sharing her knowledge with the other druids. It felt good to share her knowledge with the group, almost as though sharing her healing skills paid them in some way.

3 months had passed since the first day Cenahria arrived. One particular day was bright, and warm, and Cenahria was playing with a few of the troll children. The hairs on her neck prickled, and she felt a warmth flow through her body. She smiled before catching herself, and deliberately refused to turn around, knowing who would be watching her, the cause of the smile and the warmth in her stomach. "Cenahria! Today be da day dat Zaria finally lets me try out my cat form! Once I can turn into a cat, we can battle each other!" Cenahria smiled at Zanda's enthusiasm. His bright, yellow hair bounced as he bounded over to where Zaria and the other druids stood, waiting. Eager to support her friend, Cenahria followed.

"Zanda, today be the day dat ya show how far ya have come. Ya have reached da point in ya trainin' where ya can progress to learnin' da form of a cat, and da abilities dat come with it. Are ya ready?" Zanda nodded, beside himself with excitement. Cenahria stood back, out of the way, and was surprised when Zaria jerked her head, motioning for her to stand with them. "Ya a druid, Cenahria. Ya one of us. 'Tis our tradition dat all druids be present when a student reaches dis stage. Ya may be learnin' still, but ya know ya form perfectly, and dat makes you a higher student den Zanda today." Zaria whispered quickly, but firmly. Suppressing a smile, Cenahria stood to face Zanda. As Zaria told Zanda his instructions, she allowed herself to revel in the fact that in that moment, she was truly part of something, she truly belonged. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she watched Zanda intently. He had been preparing for this for weeks. She had offered him help, but he refused to even let her show him her own form.

"Zanda. Begin when ya ready" Cenahria held her breath as Zanda knelt to the floor. He shook his head backwards, face raised to the sun, drinking in its light. Cenahria thought back to when she had first discovered her form, how long it had taken her to change. She bit her lip and smiled as she watched Zanda's limbs begin to shake. Long minutes crawled by, as slowly, centimetre by centimetre, Zanda's body grew. His yellow hair became a magnificent mane, stretching along a breath-taking turquoise body. His fur was broken by deep sea-green stripes, following in the troll fashion. The transformation stopped, and her friend stood before her, a truly wonderful display of strength. A low growl shook his body as the druids clapped and cheered. A mischievous look crossed the feline eyes, and without warning, Zanda pounced on Zaria, a loud squeal making the other druids laugh. Cenahria laughed with them, happy that Zanda had managed to transform on his first try. The other druids transformed too, quicker than Zanda, and the scene became dazzling. Cenahria was used to the colours of the Isles, so different from the muted colours of Kalimdor, but the druids would have put a rainbow to shame.

Zanda shot Cenahria a playful look, and without thinking, she transformed, enjoying the power that coursed through her feline veins. Cenahria was so caught in the moment, that she didn't see Zanda's sudden transformation back into himself, or the shock in the eyes of the other druids. She didn't see it until Zaria, in her troll form, backed away from her slightly, eyeing her. She turned her head to look at Zanda, who crawled backwards, away from her. She whimpered, turning in a circle in an effort to see what they were staring at. Other trolls, who had come to see Zanda's test, looked at her with the same shocked expression. "Cenahria. Ya form. Ya… have changed." The concern in Zaria's face, and the confusion in Zanda's eyes, were too much. Growling, Cenahria turned, and ran.

She ran, away from the trolls, away from their eyes, and their shocked stares. She didn't care where she ended up, as long as it was away from them. She couldn't understand why they looked so nervous. She looked down at her paws. They were covered in sand, but otherwise unchanged. Staring at the sand on her paws, Cenahria realised she had reached the stretch of water that separated the Echo Isles from the mainland. Water was reflective, and she knew she could look into the waves and see what had shocked the trolls so much. But reluctance plagued Cenahria. She had only just begun to feel like she belonged, and if she looked into the water, she would see that she was in fact, not one of them. Where the trolls were bright, she was dark, built for the shadows. She would never be one of them. Cenahria snarled at herself. She would find out what had happened eventually. Better for her to find out herself than by having to ask one of the trolls. Slowly, she crept to the water, eyes closed, and placed her front paws into the waves. Leaning forward, she took a deep breath.

And opened her eyes to her reflection. The shock of the trolls was mirrored in her own eyes. Zaria had been right; she had changed. Her cat form was almost the same as always, her body a deep, midnight blue, sleek and strong. Perfect for blending into woodland, and becoming one with the night. However, the stripes that crossed her body, nearly identical to Zanda's, would make hiding in darkness a bit more difficult. If the stripes had followed her elven heritage, and matched her dusky fur slightly, she may not have panicked so much. If she ever returned to her people, they would know exactly where she had been all this time – the troll druids were well-known for their striped forms. Having her stripes match her coat would have made hiding them easier, but the colour is what truly shocked Cenahria to her core. Her dark blue fur was broken by slashes of deep red, not unlike blood. The clash of the colours should have been ugly, and Cenahria knew she should have felt disfigured. But the bright red seemed to balance the darkness of the blue. Instead of a horrible mess, Cenahria looked… powerful. Intimidating.

"It appears da forms of a druid do not depend on ya race." Cenahria stopped trying to see herself at other angles, and sat down. She had not spoken to Vol'jin since Uyoga's trial, and hearing his voice now sent tremors down her spine. She looked over her shoulder as he came to kneel next to her on the beach. Choosing to remain in her feline form, she growled an agreement to his words. "Ya form shows da grace and da beauty gifted to ya by ya elven heritage." The shock and pleasure of hearing Vol'jin say so easily that she had beauty was enough to bring Cenahria back to her elven form. Embarrassed, she looked away from him. "But da stripes show dat ya have so much more. Ya spirit, and da power ya seem to deny yaself. But tis more den dat. Dese colours, ya would not find dem anywhere else." Cenahria turned to him, and purposefully looked at his bright blue skin and red hair. He smiled self-consciously. "Ya might find brighter versions of ya blue and red amongst da trolls, but ya do not find such deep colours existing together. Anywhere else, dese colours would look out of place. Dey would clash, be at war with one another. But ya bring dese colours together, ya create harmony out of chaos. And dat be somethin' you do quite often." A look crossed Vol'jin's face, and Cenahria knew he was remembering how she had defended Uyoga. She looked at him properly, and smiled at the slight embarrassment on his face. Clearly, he had been wanting to talk to her for some time, and had used her changed form as an excuse.

Vol'jin cleared his throat and stood. "I best be leavin' ya alone to ya thoughts now." A moment's hesitation, and Cenahria reached out, and grabbed his hand. "I'd like to watch the sun set across the water. I've heard it's supposed to be quite beautiful. Will you stay, and watch it with me?" Heat wound its way through her body, beginning from the skin that touched his. She raised her eyes, and met his gaze. His eyes were intense, and she realised she could not look away. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, what this meant, but she was so desperate for him to stay with her, that she did not care. He nodded slowly, and sat beside her, as the sun began to slide towards the horizon.