Downright impressive, that was the first thought the crossed Laria's mind once she regained consciousness. She was still tied down to the undead's mount, and everything around her had the stench of death; but for some reason, all of that did not matter. Her eyes were transfixed on the forest that surrounded her, the presence of magic more than attention-grabbing. The blood elves looked relieved, unlike the undead, which would look around expecting a surprise attack.
Laria stiffly rolled her head sideways, trying to see where they were heading at. The excruciating pain her right shoulder emitted was more than she could bear, and a low growl of pain erupted from her throat. They paid her little attention, unlike the blood elf hunter, who halted the moving platoon. Confused with his antics, Laria decided that silence was the best alternative. Her cat form was becoming a bother, and rationality was slowly vanishing.
The hunter untied her with quick jerks, causing her shoulder a bit of pain. Thinking about her wound made her grow worried sick, seeing that not receiving proper medical attention could leave her crippled. Panic tore her heart open, and the forest's calming presence did nothing to calm her growing anguish.
She tried to run away, or limp, only to be stopped by the rope that was fastened around her neck. Then, the hunter soothingly petted her matter fur with gloved hands. She hissed and tried to slash his sides, but stopped when it caused her more pain. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, and her tongue was dry with thirst. The hunter immediately noticed, unclasping a water flask. He offered her the refreshment, but she merely stared at it. Understanding, he stashed away the precious liquid, only to take out an apple. This time, Laria had no option than to laugh; the noise sounded like she was growling, but the hunter was able to identify the sound.
What came next was more surprising, as a large feline approached Laria. The power that emanated from the feline was not ignored, and Laria felt strangely intimidated. For a moment, she wondered if this stray creature had randomly decided to have a chat with her, but clarity dawned upon her.
"You should eat," the creature spoke the tongue of beasts, one the druid could fluidly speak. Certainly, this had to be the hunter's pet, for such creature would not be able to obtain such power from the wilderness itself.
Laria shook her head with reluctance, a twinge of relief overcoming uncertainty. "I cannot eat anything but meat, in this form of mine," her brief explanation was accepted with a quick nod. The hunter quickly placed a hand on top of its pet, closing his eyes in concentration. Everyone was silent, the other horde members speaking in hushed voices and low whispers. The blood elf opened his eyes, a sense of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
He offered the apple at Laria again, and took out a slice of meat. The druid sniffed the delicious object that dangled from his hand, and tried to snatch it away from him. He did multiple clicks with his tongue, stashing the meat away; instead, he offered her the apple again. She snarled at the hunter, baring her fangs. He smiled kindly at her, causing Laria to stare at him with confusion. He gingerly touched her swollen shoulder and shook his head, and then he pointed at the apple.
He wanted her to shape shift. He wanted her to go back to her human form. "Tell that master of yours that I'll do no such thing!" her roar echoed through the forest, her fur bristling with defiance. The orcs merely glanced at her, continuing with their idle chatter. The feline pet simply shook its head with annoyance. Laria then decided she could somehow gain something from this; like an exchange of some sort.
"Very well. I'll change back, only if he takes me to a lake," her conditions were essentially selfish, but she did not fuss over it. Her cat form was very nice and everything, but the side effects were starting to make her gain a headache. And she did not want to shift back and stink like an undead. The beast immediately nodded, giving his master a knowing glance. For a moment, Laria wondered if the hunter knew what her demands were, but instead of linking himself with his pet; the hunter simply followed, pulling the druid along.
She nimbly followed, her limp making her graceful moves look less fluid. She did not mind this, for her tail flickered from side to side with content. At last, she would be able to take a bath without half the world looking. Being in cat form sure had its perks, as she could do most things that required nudity in her human form. The hunter simply glanced at her with a questioning gaze, before settling his sight on his pet.
Finally, they reached a small pond. Her paws were greeted with icy water, but she paid the temperature no mind. Plunging into the frozen water, she relished the cold feeling. She stayed near the edge of the water, giving her fur all the desperate attention it craved for. After a good amount of time, her fur was finally shiny with cleansing and freshness.
The hunter was sitting on a nearby boulder, keeping watch on her. She found the idea of fleeing comical, as her shoulder would restraint most of her movements. Giving the hunter a bemused look, she decided that shape shifting was a requirement. Not being one of wasting time, she summoned the power of nature, and felt her body start to change.
Her fur started to grow longer, her purple hair making it known once again. Her linen clothes dislodged itself from her skin, as her paws grew opposable thumbs. The hunter was dumbstruck, his jaw slack. His pet was startled, even more when they noticed the towering height she seemed to posses.
Laria stood there, wincing at the pain that came from her shoulder. Being in her natural form was relieving, and she felt like screaming until her newly acquired vocal chords ripped apart. Her hands flexed automatically, feeling empty without a weapon to hold.
"You…" the druid turned to the hunter, her silver eyes shining with amazement. He could speak Darnassian? She was not sure, and if he did, she wished otherwise. "You… are wounded?" his accent was heavy, but the sound of his voice soothed her in ways she could not explain. Hunters had a way around beasts, and being in her cat form might've influenced her mind more than she desired.
"My shoulder," she glanced down at her right shoulder, grimacing at the black bruise that was visible. "It's dislocated," her voice hinted disapproval, her eyes looking up at the hunter once again. Silence stretched between them, until she took note of the confusion on the blood elf's face. Her eyes narrowed; just how much Darnassian did he know?
"My name is Laria," she hesitated, "what's yours?"
Voices could be heard from far away, and Laria visibly tensed. Orcish resonated from the trees, and Laria backed away as a reflex, noting with shock (and admonishing herself for not noticing earlier) that her legs weren't incapacitated and that she was capable of walking without a burdening limp. In her elf form, her shoulder would not prove to be an obstacle if she ran. No hesitation came into her mind as she darted towards the forest's foliage; her feet nimbly leaping over broken branches and torn bushes.
But she soon found herself sprinting towards Elune-knew-where, her pursuers gaining on her by each passing second. She could hear the horde's mounts, her panic growing. She could not shape shift, as her shoulder would immediately slow her down. She didn't even know the terrain, and she was too frantic to listen the aiding whispers of the tries. Instead, she ran as much as she could, trying to place obstacles between her and her pursuers. All her effort went to waste, when a huge bird blocked her path, it's shrill startling Laria more than it should. Weaponless and frightened, the druid darted to her left, trying to take another path. She took two more steps, before the ground crumbled under her weight and she felt a sudden gust of wind buffet her face.
Laria let out an earsplitting scream, as she pummeled towards her own demise. Her arms tried to grab anything and everything. She kept screaming until the water engulfed her sight and lungs. Her battle against the current ended in defeat, her attempts at swimming or shape-shifting into her aquiline form unsuccesful. Nothing worked. And, as the world lost its vibrant colors and darkness overwhelmed her panicked senses, Laria begged Elune for forgiveness with frenzied thoughts.