Vol'jin had never felt as shocked as he had when he had watched Cenahria transform into her feline druid form. Since the trial, he had watched her from afar, wanting to talk to her, to apologise, but she denied him at every opportunity. She refused to so much as look at him, and that hurt him more deeply than he cared to admit. So when Zanda had begun his test of his powers, Vol'jin had found the perfect excuse to watch her. She had looked so happy, being included by Zaria, standing with the other druids. She had truly looked as though she belonged there, and Vol'jin had known then that regardless of what the Loa told him, allowing her to live with them was no mistake.

When she had turned into her cat form, and ran away, Vol'jin had not hesitated to follow her. The other trolls were completely taken aback, and rightly so. Only a troll druid had stripes in their form. When she had arrived, her elven feline form had been pure inky blue. He had thought her beautiful, even then. But watching her look at her own reflection, seeing the stripes crossing her body, a perfect crimson slicing through the deep blue, he had finally begun to admit to himself that Cenahria was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He had no doubt why troll stripes had appeared on her elven druid form, and he was secretly happy at the colour they had turned out to be. Her very spirit and soul had changed since joining his tribe, and the physical representation of this made Cenahria look more mysterious than ever.

Vol'jin told her so. Or, at least, he told her parts of that. Barely concealed joy had lit her eyes when he told her she had beauty, and it had been a struggle not to smile as she hid herself in embarrassment. It had felt so good, talking to her again, and he had not wished to push things. He had felt the conversation end, and had begun to make his way back when, once again, she completely went against his assumptions. She had taken his hand, and asked him to watch the sun set with her. The moment her skin had touched his, electricity had rippled through his body. He had turned to face her, the voices in his head wanting him to roar at her that he was a Troll, and that trolls did not stay on beaches with elves. The intensity of her eyes had stopped him.

He had stayed on that beach with her for hours, well into the night, listening to her talk. She had released his hand, but they sat close, their thighs gently touching. As a shadow hunter, Vol'jin was acutely aware of his surroundings all the time. But his senses were never more alert than they were that night. As the night grew darker, Cenahria had grown more confident, more talkative. He watched her as she told him of her childhood, living in Kalimdor. She told him of her parents, and her older brother, and he stayed silent as he memorised every feature of her face. The way her eyes tightened when she spoke of Malfurion, how her head tilted to the side whenever she asked him a question about life on the Isles. Her eyes glowed at night, almost as though they held the light of the moon itself. Eventually, Cenahria had begun to tire, and he had walked her home.

After that evening, Vol'jin did not see much of Cenahria. The other druids had quickly grown accustomed to her new feline form, and she let her guard down once more, advancing her studies. Vol'jin wished for some excuse to talk to her again, but his Chieftain duties quickly took over. Garrosh Hellscream was named Warchief for the Horde, and Vol'jin had to prepare for his journey to Orgrimmar.

Several days before he was due to leave for Orgrimmar, Thrall had appeared in the brazier. "Do you have all you need for your visit, friend?" Vol'jin looked at the bundles that he had packed by the door, ready to be taken in advance by wind rider. "I have all I be needin' for da journey. Do ya think it be too much to bring my glaive?" Thrall laughed, but a serious note edged his voice. "Our new Warchief may take that as an act of defiance against his position. Vol'jin, I am doing what I believe to be best for the Horde. As I have said to Sylvanas and Baine already, do not anger Garrosh while you are here. The Horde is at risk of breaking apart, and we need to stand firm against all possible threats." Vol'jin snarled slightly. "And if da threat be from within our ranks, Thrall? What den?" Thrall sighed, and turned the conversation.

He was in the middle of telling Vol'jin about a drunken brawl between a goblin and an orc when the door skin flapped, and air twisted the vision of Thrall. A mischievous look immediately crossed Thrall's face, and Vol'jin's face heated as he turned to face Cenahria. "Oh! Vol'jin, I am so sorry. I didn't realise you were busy!" He smiled at her, and introduced her to Thrall. "Cenahria, dis be Thrall. He be a good friend of mine." She smiled at the vision of Thrall, and turned to Vol'jin once more. Her eyes flicked back and forth from the bags. "I didn't realise you were going away, Vol'jin. I trust everything is well?" Concern etched her face, and Vol'jin searched for a way to tell her he was leaving her with his tribe for a few days. "Our Horde has recently appointed a new Warchief. As Vol'jin is the Chieftain here, he is obligated to meet him in Orgrimmar. He will be gone for several days." Vol'jin shot a look at Thrall, who smiled at him. "However, I see no reason why you couldn't join him here. It is not often a Night Elf joins our ranks, and Orgrimmar is truly a sight to experience. I'm sure Vol'jin would appreciate the company, and it would be good to finally meet you in person." Cenahria tilted her head, and a smile brightened her face. Vol'jin nearly growled, however his friend's smile merely grew bigger. "If that isn't too much trouble, Thrall. I would love to see your city." Vol'jin forced a smile as she looked to him, and he couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiastic call of "Goodbye, Thrall! I will see you in a few days!" as she ran out of the hut. As soon as she left the hut, Vol'jin rounded on Thrall.

"Why ya be inviting Cenahria to Orgrimmar?" Thrall laughed, and grinned at his friend. Vol'jin instantly regretted telling Thrall of the night he had spent talking to her in the moonlight. "You said you wished to get to know her better, Vol'jin. What better way than spending a few days alone with her in Orgrimmar?" "Thrall, ya know as well as I do, dat if she walks through Orgrimmar, she will be in danger. She would not be safe. Any number of da Horde would jump to kill her, especially with da new Warchief." Vol'jin stopped for a second. How could he meet his new Warchief with Cenahria at his side? "I will explain to Garrosh the unique situation. The guards will be instructed not to harm her. And Vol'jin, she will be with you. She could not be safer. It's said females like a male that can protect them." And with that, Thrall dissolved into more laughter. Scowling, Vol'jin poured sand over the flames, extinguishing the brazier, and the vision of Thrall.

Vol'jin sat in his chair, and sighed. He felt completely torn. Allowing Cenahria to come with him would almost certainly put her in danger. She would be surrounded by the Horde, most of whom would be desperate to prove their worth to the new Warchief. The head of an alliance elf would bring instant respect, given Garrosh's reputation. But. Spending several days with Cenahria, away from his tribe. He could even take a day and show her the outlying villages, he could even take her riding on one of the raptors. Cenahria had told him how much she loved to experience new cultures, how she had dreamed as a child of travelling to visit the other races of the alliance, learning how they lived, learning of their differences to her own life. Showing her Orgrimmar would be a dream come true for her, which had been evident in her enthusiasm to accept Thrall's offer. He could not let her down. And Thrall was right. Being alone with her meant time to talk to her more. Looking at the bags he had packed, Vol'jin slid several knives into one of them, and placed his warglaive next to the pile. He did not care if Garrosh took it as a sign of defiance.

Vol'jin would protect Cenahria in any way he could.