Dry bread and tepid water
Knock, knock! The sound of a fist, which hammered firmly against the door, roused Vingor Stormcrow from his slumber. His side felt sore, as such he had very little sleep during the night. He could see a pale morning light through the wooden planks, dawn had yet to rise above the city of Stormwind. The soft chirp of a bird, which took shelter within a tree somewhere outside, was the only sound which slipped past the cracks of the partly sealed window.
"You awake, elf?" The voice of Captain Soluna tore the elf from his hazy mood. His race had long been nocturnal in nature, hence their name among the humans, and to adapt to their schedule was no simple task for an elf. Especially not one as old as him.
"Yes, I will be with you shortly." Vingor raised his voice a hint above normal, to make sure she would hear him clearly. He shook his head to rid himself of the dreariness which clouded his vision, and placed a palm in front of his sensitive eyes. The sun was quite bright, to the point where it felt annoying to think of taking a single step outside. Normally, at that hour, he would be able to rest.
"Did you get enough rest? We could hold it off closer to noon, if you want." The human girl stared at him in a manner that made his neck prickle, which annoyed Vingor greatly. He shook his head dismissively and went downstairs. There was a well outside, in which he could get water. The elf washed his face and roused himself properly. He could hear the human approach him even if she tried to hide it. The wooden floor creaked under her foot.
"I am fine, we should be going now." Vingor replied at last, while drying his face on a clean piece of cloth before he paced across the square of the Dwarven District. Captain Soluna caught up to him, despite his longer legs, somehow, and led the way towards Old Town. Children were all but gone from the formerly crowded streets, and some doors were nailed shut with thick wooden planks. Old Town was a quiet place, even compared to the rest of the city. Somehow, it felt a little creepy. The fair peak of Stormwind Keep rose above the city, as it nested at the cliffs, but its shadow loomed over Old Town and kept the air cool. Rats flourished in dark corners of the dirt-ridden streets, which did not make for the most appealing sight.
Captain Soluna led the druid to a merchant who kept prices low and steady. He kept them so mostly because it was the only way to draw much business, if you were not located in the Trade District or the Dwarven District. The reason for that was that the little crowds that did venture outside usually massed together there. The dwarven district was also the centre of metalwork, hence it was a busy little beehive. Old Town was not. The SI:7's presence had always loomed over the district, along with the Alliance Command Center, but even so barely anyone tread the streets during the day. All though the Pig and Whistle did have some visitors at noon from time to time.
A soft whimper came from a dark corner nearby. Vingor stopped in the middle of the road, and Angelina Soluna came to a stop as well. She noticed how the elf's ears peaked upwards, as if they caught a whiff of something along with the wind. The elf motioned for her to be silent with his finger in front of his lips. He moved off the road and towards an alley next to Koen's store. The sun barely lit the little opening between the houses where Ol' Beasley often begged for a coin, but he was nowhere to be seen to her surprise. Master Stormcrow stepped up to a nearby well and glanced at something hiding on the other side. Angelina followed the elf, she was curious about his actions, and finally came to notice the little child who hid its head between its arms while sobbing quietly. Rags covered the little creature's legs. Its shins were bare and cluttered with bruises, and gave the impression of being a famished child due to its frail proportions. It was hard to tell if it was a boy or a girl, she thought.
The elf, however, sat down next to the child and pulled out a wooden flute. It was small and quite simple with no decorations to speak of. Vingor placed the tip at his lips and began to play. A soft melody flowed from the tiny piece of wood and the air grew warm. Angelina allowed herself to get caught in the rhythm. The elf weaved the tunes together with such skill that the sound caused her skin to tingle, as if he had placed a spell upon her. The child stopped weeping and listened in silence, but it took a while for the young one to lift its head. It was a girl, with hazel brown eyes. She watched the elf play the flute without even blinking, mesmerized by the foreign rhythm and delicate sounds that filled the alley. She was not scared of the druid, if so she hid it quite well. Most humans had heard the stories of vile creatures who hid in the forest, of a race whose women formed one of the most potent military forces Azeroth had seen. It was such stories that often caused human children to shy away or openly hate their allies, but she knew nothing of those stories. She did, however, listen to the music which the elf played for her. Soluna watched over the two as the elf played the tune until its end.
He rose to his feet and walked away, and as he left the young girl glanced after him with awe. Angelina frowned at how he could leave the poor kid without a single word, but at the same time she took note of the change in the child's eyes. The druid may not have offered a single word of comfort, but the act of playing the flute certainly had an impact on the child. Angelina knew fully well that it was an orphan child, the ruined clothes she wore was a dead give away. A part of her felt uneasy when she turned away and left the child who never even noticed her presence, those eyes still glanced after the elf who had disappeared around the corner.
"You're odd, druid. I can't tell if you're kind or wicked."
"The rats were loud." He stated, and threw the woman off her guard. A part of her wanted to punch the elf for what he had said, but she dared not. Whatever his reasons may have been, the girl had stopped crying.
The morning passed as they went from store to store and gathered the supplies he required. Master Stormcrow stocked a healthy supply of bread, but no butter. He picked up dried fruit to go with the basic bread, herbs and hardened vegetables that could survive the journey. She realised that the elf did intend to travel by foot. Hardened leather and thick cloth came before armour or sword, which he claimed he had no use for. At the end, when they were finished, the sun stood tall in the sky. The cool morning breeze had long since dried away in the sweltering heat, and their task was done. On the way back, leading towards the Dwarven District, he stopped near the alley they had visited earlier in the morning.
"Could you get hold of a bucket." He asked her.
"Why, exactly?" She demanded.
"The water back at the inn taste awful." He explained, and looked over his shoulder at her. Angelina did what he asked, but upon her return the druid was long gone. She cursed the elf and entered the smelly alley with a growl. Rats scurried away from under her feet. She tied the rope to the handle and slid the bucket into the well and fetched the druid's water. It was only then, when she pondered if she should spill the content over the old elf's neck, that she took notice of the frail girl who hid in a corner. Muffled sounds came from the shadow, as the poor creature bit into a dry piece of bread which she had probably stolen from the Pig and Whistle on the other side of the street. Her yellowed teeth clamped into the crusting bread with greed. Pity took her as the child stared at the bucket with dire thirst in her eyes. The proud woman that was Angelina Soluna abandoned her place when faced with such eyes, she walked back to the inn and left the bucket of water behind. The child needed the water more than an old elf, she thought to herself.
"Did you remember the water?" The druid asked when she entered the inn, as he sat at the same table they had shared the night before. Upon the wooden table was the very flute with which he had weaved a gentle tune, the very lips that created such a fair melody could speak carelessly as if the child he had met made no impression upon him.
"The well was empty."
"And the bucket?" Bright, elven eyes struck her own as they questioned her with curiosity.
"I returned it." She claimed.
"I see, fair enough."