Amandil scanned the area from the boughs of one of the shorter trees in the area. The transition back toward Ashenvale progressively became less grim, and she was grateful that she wouldn't actually have to venture all the way into Felwood. Perched on that branch as it was, she was given pause by just how much she'd have to loop back around; even after having spent six centuries patrolling the forest for invaders, there were some parts that were impenetrable and convoluted even to her.
Any and all fel corruption disappeared the further into Ashenvale that she looked. The colors brightened and even the amount of glowing corruption decreased, providing a much clearer image of nature.
Except for the two annoying spotlights of fel green. Where was that glow coming from?
Oblivious at first, Amandil's more instinctual mind eventually begin to tingle with apprehension. Her natural reaction was to hold still, perhaps crouching even lower down to the branch though she didn't quite feel if she was doing that or not. Unfortunately, her hackles also raised, revealing to her uninvited guest that she was aware of his presence and not necessarily receptive toward it. Slowly but surely, her senses told her of a large figure next to her in the tree, unmoving and patient as it had waited for her to see him.
Frozen and unsure of what to do, Amandil tried to plot a course of action but failed to think of anything other than jumping out of the tree. That would leave her vulnerable, however, since she couldn't even see her uninvited guest clearly from the corner of her eye. Tilting her head ever so slightly, her felinoid eyes widened as she started to notice just who'd been sitting next to her the entire time she'd been there...
...she'd strayed far too close to Felwood when searching for a winding path to reach the plateau.
Sickly green beams of light shined at her, like the most horrible of the Burning Legion's metal contraptions sweeping the area with a searchlight. Adding to the demonic glow was a series of unholy runes glowing with the power of pure evil, lighting up once bluish skin that had long since turned grey from the self destructive power of the macabre and forbidden. Though she felt too nervous to turn her entire head, which would alert her interlocutor to her awareness, she could just barely catch the outline of two blades shaped like half circles.
The two of them held their positions, pretending not to be interested in one another as they balanced on that tree branch. Reaching into the back of her six hundred year old mind, Amandil tried to find a solution to what was most assuredly a problem.
She'd served as light cavalry for so many centuries...even if she was a novice in the Cenarion Circle, she'd served under the Sentinels for a long enough time. She knew all about maneuvers, tactics, flanking and sundering enemy ranks. She was a warrior of the night, a huntress of the wicked, an experienced and seasoned fighter. But she was also uncoordinated when shapeshifted into the form of a panther, her skills mostly unpracticed. And she couldn't heal herself if hurt; she could only heal vegetables.
This...this was a daunting task. Even the crackling energy of the tattooed runes and the partially obstructed breathing reminded her of how dire her situation was. This wasn't simply a bandit along the way, or an imp she'd stumbled upon when dawdling near the border: this was a demon hunter. The most foul, vile of all heretics her society had known. No wonder there were so many bounties posted in that area - she was right next to the training ground of the Burning Legion's minions.
If this was a training ground for them...then it was for her, too. Realization of her opportunity dawned on her: this was her next test. She'd passed the test of slaying and then ritually thanking her spirit animal, and she'd even tamed a miniature bog beast after curing a plant infection in the vegetative being's brain. Was this her test of combat - the reason why Elune had led her there? At the least convenient time, when she was the least suspecting? It would make sense...for that would truly be an achievement.
Tensing up and steeling her nerve, Amandil swiveled around on her end of the branch, facing down the monster she'd inadvertently climbed up next to. The man was crouching low as he sat, the weight of his war glaives not impeding his balance in the least. Where antlers normally stood as honorable gifts of nature for the older men of their kind who'd helped to safeguard the wilds, this creature had horns. Though he didn't have hooves, the devilish runes also scrawled on his baggy pants were symbol enough that he'd transformed so much that she would not even consider such an atrocity to be a night elf any longer. Every inch of the man spoke of untold blasphemy againt the goddess.
The man held firm, the rag covering his disgusting, empty eye sockets buring with green light that failed to even illuminate his face, distorting the light around him. Amandil bared her fangs, refusing to back down or allow herself to fall victim to a being so unspeakable.
"Breathe," the demon hunter said, his voice carrying a strange, warped sound as if his throat had started to fall to fel mutation before his feet had.
No, I will not fall for your tricks, she thought angrily, her sense of righteous fury bubbling up both in reaction to her holy test and the monster's attempt to fool her. She'd known that many of the demons sent by the Legion employed deception and falsehood in order to lull their opponents into a false sense of security. She as not going to allow herself to become a part of that statistic.
She growled, the sound deep and guttural even t her own throat. Power rose up through her, and confidence she hadn't felt before drove her. She would pass this test; she'd mastered melee combat while riding a mount, and she'd master it while shifted into the form of a big cat as well.
The demon hunter barely moved. "Breathe," he repeated, his tone forceful, as if he actually expected her to obey.
No. She was not his to command or to trick. The language of Elune was not his to insult with his warped voice. This was both a test and an honor; she couldn't let herself fail.
Launching her body toward the monster, she unsheathed her claws, arms splayed open to dig in and grab ahold of the corrupted flesh. In midair she opened her mouth, read to bite down on whatever - wait a minute, why was he stabbing the innocent tree with one of his weapons?
"Hhuuuurrrrrrkkk," she roared, flailing around as the demon hunter's suddenly free hand wrapped around her throat.
Absolute terror welled up inside of her as she realized that her hind feet were no longer planted on the branch. Dangling in the air, her heart thumped against her chest cavity as she struggled, meowing as she desperately tried to reach out for anything to grab ahold of. In theory, she should have been able to rend the skin of his forearm with her claws; in practice, a proper swipe when she was asphyxiating, panicking and only able to see the canopy was much easier said than done. Especially when she was still uncoordinated when moving around in the very differently shaped cat body; had she remained in elven form, she might even have had a better chance of tackling him.
The demon hunter loosened his grip, but continued holding her over the ground far below. His shoulder never seemed to tire, probably from heaving around those heavy glaives all the time, and his horrendous glowing eye sockets fixated on her. Without eyes, his gaze was impossible to discern, but she could tell that he was examining her pelt rather than her feline face.
"Breathe," he ordered her again, pulling her closer to inspect her better. It was as if he didn't fear her wrath, a fact which hurt even more then the embarrassment of having been beaten without any violence.
Panicked over her continued dangling above the ground, Amandil reached dow into her mana pool and yanked. For the first time in over a year, the felt a bit of pain when she shapeshifted, possibly due to the fact that she shifted too quickly. Out of desperation, she forced herself back into elven form as fast as possible, grabbing on to the demon hunter's wrist. Her nerves were shot, and she was so nervous that she couldn't muster up her usual strength to simply hit him at his elbow joint.
But she wouldn't need to.
"Ahh!" she yelped as the man gasped and let go of her, obviously quite shocked by her transformation.
As a former huntress, Amandil was already agile enough to fall great heights and land on her feet. In her rush to battle, however, she hadn't noticed the uneven incline of the leaf covered forest floor below, and she slipped and tumbled down an embankment. Panic rose up in her again as she realized that her body was rolling straight toward a patch of bramble bushes...
...no...the brambles were rolling toward her.
In a flash, she brought up her staff from her baldric, meeting the blow of the corrupted treant before it could scratch her with its thorny fingers. She wasn't particularly skilled with a staff - not like with a moon glaive of old or her confiscated claw gauntlets - but she knew enough. More of the bramble bushes rose around her, obviously triggered by the presence of an uncorrupted entity, and a few more lurched toward her just as she swung her staff hard enough against the first one to split its head open. It remained in a standing position, but the fel glow in its eyes faded as it died on its roots, leaving her to dance around and parry the strikes of the others.
She didn't bother trying to shift; a big cat's claws would only shear the bark from the treants rather than actually wounding them inside. This would require either blunt force trauma, or a blade with enough length to it to actually sever wooden limbs or heads.
War glaives were long enough for the latter.
Landing so lightly that his weight didn't even seem to cause an impact in the ground, the demon hunter silently leapt from atop the tree, decapitating two treants as he silently completed his descent. The momentary distraction allowed Amandil to slam her staff upside the last corrupted treant, knocking it onto its side where the demon hunter spun in a circle and cut it to pieces. In the heat of battle, her mind was still in combat, and she swung her staff toward the back of the demon hunter's neck.
"Eep!" she squeaked as he brought the tip of one of his war glaives half an inch from her nose. She froze and fell back, crouching into a battle stance even as he planted both of his blades in the ground and held out his empty hands.
Amandil backed up, expecting him to immolate them both in some sort of suicide move at any moment. She bared her fangs, confused by the demon hunter's almost contrite expression.
"Stay back, heretic!" she hissed at him, finally holding her ground and giving him pause.
The glow of his eyes and runes darkened, as if less active when he wasn't engaged in combat. "Calm down," he stated bluntly, only infesting her even more.
"And who are you to give orders to me? To anyone, you, who has throw away the blessing of nature bestowed upon our people with your pact with devils?"
As if sincerely hurt, the demon hunter's mouth pulled into a frown. He stopped his approach, staring intently at her in a way that made her uneasy. Ever so slightly, the older man tilted his chin down by a degree that she almost didn't notice, as if he felt as embarrassed at winning as she did at losing.
"You have no idea...of course you wouldn't," he murmured, more to himself than to her.
His bizarre ruse confounding her to no end, she inched closer to him, her staff still held up defensively. In a duel like this, she wasn't sure if she could win; in elven for, she preferred to fight with a glaive, and in panther form she was still a beginner. But she wouldn't so easily back down, not tonight...
...his nose.
A few more leaves fell to the ground as Amandil froze at the bottom of the embankment, her fingers trembling. A small, quiet voice whispered nonsense in the back of her mind, telling her ridiculous things that she didn't want to hear as she looked at...
...his ears.
Deja vu danced around in her mind as she wondered if some sort of a spell had been cast on her, forcing her to think strange thoughts and stare at his...
...chin.
A very familiar angle of the line from jaw to chin metaphorically pierced her mind like a wedge driven through wood, splitting her brain open as her head started to shake in denial.
"No...no! No! No, no, no! You're lying, YOU'RE LYING!" she shouted, leaning heavily on her staff as she struggled to remain standing on buckling knees.
The monster held his hand out toward her, but didn't approach. "I've said nothing," he said in a voice that was soft despite its warped nature.
Amandil found herself reaching for his hand and then pulling back, cursing herself inside as she found herself trying to close the gap between them. Every ounce of her hated the monstrosity before her, the betrayal of all their people believed in, colored in the runes of demonic corruption. And those two green sources of light, both of them kind yet full of regret, controlling her, forcing her to walk-
"I'm sorry...for...who I am," he whispered, his voice lacking certainty as she found arms hugging him as she fell to her knees, the pain of so many centuries of not knowing crashing onto her shoulders.
Still shaking her head, she leaned her head on his shoulder when he hugged her back, covering her face with her hands as she tried and failed to answer questions about her own nature, about this blasphemy in front of her, about what she must truly be like...so much swirling around in her mind, all while she clung to him despite wishing she'd never known. Had he simply been some sort of bandit outlaw, it would have all been easier to process.
She let herself sit on her knees, still hiding her face from the world even as she leaned in to the hug she'd missed all her life. "I'm sorry," Faraldor repeated as he rocked her like she was still a child.
