Ulric crouched down as he made his way across a clearing toward a collection of rocks that stood tall, his body relaxing as he entered beneath the cover. He cocked his head around, waving for Shadowmoon and Parvaen to follow suit, the both of them keeping low themselves, emulation their leader. As the three collected beneath the shadow beneath the large stones, Ulric pulled his pack from his shoulder, kneeling down to rummage through it.

He pulled out a rugged-looking recurve bow, dropping it to the ground while his hand returned to his sack, "Two rules."

"No guns, no bows," Parvaen repeated, mechanically, earning a contented smile from his leader.

"Exactly," Ulric nodded, "Though there's one exception, and that's when we go kiting. We don't do it often, but you need to learn for if we ever do."

He walked just out from the shadows, crouching down as Parvaen did the same behind him, Ulric's hand pointing out into the distance, "Ah. A hippogryph, see?"

Parvaen nodded as he replied, nervously, "Y-Yeah."

Ulric chuckled, "It's fine; don't worry. I'll take this one, just to show you. Now, you never, ever, aim to kill, got that? I don't care if you have to wait for hours, you never hit anywhere other than the wing. If you don't think you have the shot- if you have any thought that you'll also injure the body, do not fire. Got it?"

"Ye-Yes," Parvaen nodded again.

"All we're doing is evening the playing field, right?" Ulric postulated, reaching for his bow while Shadowmoon handed him an arrow.

He scampered out from the small formation of rocks into the open, kneeling down as he readied his bow methodically. Keeping the arrow on his hand, he slowly lifted his arms as he took aim, his single open eye peering endlessly into the distance.

He did the best he could, but Shadowmoon's eyes caught the problem. Ulric had knelt to 'anchor' himself, but the composition of this landmass, the altitude, even the air pressure here was causing the most minute of changes to his aim. For such a precise act, any one of these factors caused a problem, much less all of them.

Quickly, Shadowmoon dashed out from the rocks, stepping lightly enough to make no noise as she made her way in front of Ulric, dropping to a knee and placing her open palms at the ground. Her head lowered, allowing Ulric to carefully hold his arm on top of her shoulder, careful not to leave any possibility of hitting her with the bow string once it broke loose from his other hand.

Eyes closed, Shadowmoon's hands slowly clenched downward, shoving her fingers into the dirt. Her heart slowed. Her mind focused on nothing but the darkness behind her eyes. Each vibration of the earth below ran a wave across her mind's vision- each burst of wind, each tremor, even Ulric's heartbeat at her shoulder. She quickly took note of the patterns, her body slowly moving in time with each movement, like a pendulum swinging freely atop a roaring ocean.

A bead of sweat ran down Ulric's forehead he was concentrating so much, trying to aim as well as learning the spots in Shadowmoon's movements where he'd have a clean shot. The hippogryph was far enough that his movements seemed slowed, but Ulric knew the creatures well. They flew heavily, slowly; especially this one; its wings flapped lazily, up and down. Up and down. Up and-

*FFFFFFSHWOOO*

In a second, the hippogryph whined as it descended to the ground, its wing impaled with Ulric's arrow. Shadowmoon immediately rolled to the side, allowing Ulric to burst into a sprint from his crouch, dropping his bow as he went along. Parvaen's eyes grew wide at the man's expertise, at the man's sheer explosion of primal energy as he hurried to the creature.

The hippogryph struggled to its feet as it eyed Ulric, viewing any creature as a threat in this state. It burst a loud *CAW* at him, but as it didn't slow him, the hippogryph whinnied, angrily, as it hopped back and forth in an evasive stance.

Ulrich smirked as he dodged the beast's hooves, which had brought down to the ground, violently, attempting to pin him down. Before the hippogryph could lock on to him again, Ulric had jumped up at its side, wrapping his arms around its neck as the creature tore its body from side to side to knock him off.

Quickly enough, it succeeded, as the beast managed to knock Ulric against the ground, blowing the wind out of him. Laying there, dazed, Ulric stared up at the creature's hooves, paused in mid-air at the top of its arc, before a split second of them striking down at him. He just rolled away, crouching against the ground to keep his footing, a bestial grin creeping upon his face.

Suddenly, he dashed at the body of the hippogryph, grabbing around its torso as he jumped, pell-mell, into the creature, tackling it to the ground, surrendering the beast's ability to bring its hooves up. Ulric hurried to its other side, away from its frantically kicking hooves, as he fell atop the creature's neck pinning its head to the ground, whipping a knife out and holding it before its eyes.

As if understanding, the hippogryph stopped its struggle, almost as if realizing its loss. It remained still, admitting defeat, though Ulric only smirked boyishly, pulling his knife back into his pocket as he rose to his knees, patting the beast's cheek before reaching his feet.

"It's not your time," he confirmed with a smile, "Maybe next time; you'll be more difficult then."

Almost confused, the hippogryph simply remained on the ground, its eyes closed in anticipation of pain. Though, they shot open alongside a massive whine as Ulric tore the arrow in half, yanking it from the beast's wing and tossing it to the ground. Without another thought, the hippogryph jumped to its feet, dashing off into the wilderness as Ulric and the others looked on.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Ulric turned to the others, shrugging innocently, "Not bad?"

Parvaen's jaw had fallen open during the confrontation, just not coming to his senses as his leader spoke, "That…"

Ulric chuckled, "You don't seem like the kiting type, but as long as you can aim well and pull 'em down, Rem or Kota should be able to help you out. I've long thought Shadowmoon, here, would be killed by attempting such a thing; her pride is usually larger than her muscles."

He laughed again as Shadowmoon swiped at him, playfully, though with a painfully sarcastic stare toward him. Ulric walked back along to recover his backpack, kneeling down to collect the articles that had fallen out, peering over to see Parvaen still unmoved.

Standing up with his bag, he happily patted his blood elf friend's shoulder, "Oh, come now. I know Shadowmoon has enough strength to carry your ass back, and I know you wouldn't want that."

"N-No," Parvaen confirmed, just coming out of his reverie, slowly turning as Ulric began walking off back toward their camp.

Shadowmoon followed behind, leaving Parvaen last, but he walked hastily, catching up to her, whispering with an uneven voice, "He-He's not a worgen, right?"

She didn't reply, but her stare remained cool as she watched Ulric from behind, examining his gait. He seemed so energetic, with a sort of pep to his step. Her lips curled in dissatisfaction, shrugging with a sigh.

"I don't know," she mumbled back under her breath, "But I'm keeping an eye out."

"I'm just curious," Parvaen shot back, quietly, "I'm not at all asking for the help of a kaldorei; not a chance."

Shadowmoon grinned, wrapping an arm around the man and pulling him into a sidelong hug, "Shut up and just keep walkin'."

She didn't noticed his eyes rolling.

Ulric's mother roughly wrung out the damp rag before unfurling it once more, covering her hand and running it up and down his back, careful not to be too rough. The sudsy water clung to him, though it was even more noticeable from the cold; Ulric's skin was constantly freezing, but his muscles were so sore from carrying home his kill that he couldn't do much but sit there.

Returning home, his father had left to cut up Old Denny, leaving his mother to help him get bathed for lunch. Upon returning and depositing the corpse in the nearby shed, Ulric literally was unable to lift his arms, which strained his shoulders, so his mother simply offered to help bathe him in the small bathhouse that had been constructed adjacent to the home.

The wall at the house was somewhat warm from the fire within the home, so his mother had pulled the large tub nearby, though it did very little to offer much warmth. Instead, Ulric just sat there, nearly despondent as his mind ran through what had happened earlier that day.

"This is gonna hurt," his mother spoke softly, grabbing his wrist and lifting up his arm to scrub underneath it, though the weltering pain did little to phase the boy, now.

She sighed at his lack of feedback, sadly, a frown having been on her face since they'd began, "I'm sorry, Ulric. I know it wasn't something you wanted to do, but it made your father very, very happy, you know. I tried my best to get you out of it, but you know your father."

Ulric nodded limply, "I didn't want you to get hit again."

She paused, unable to form anything resembling a sentence for a moment, before finally speaking up, returning to scrubbing at the same time, "Don't talk about your father that way. He just wants to make sure you're able to take care of yourself."

The two of them became quiet as she lifted his other arm to scrub there as well, pulling her rag into a nearby bucket to rinse off. She sighed lightly, not expecting it to be audible to her son, though he didn't say anything regardless. She soaked the rag in the other bucket before wringing it out again.

"Why did you marry him?"

His mother sighed, louder this time, dropping the rag in the bucket as she held on to the bucket's edges, "Ulric, regardless of anything else, he is your father. Just… Just leave it that alright? We're going to have a good dinner tonight, you'll get a good night's rest; everything will be better tomorrow."

"Until I go hunting again," Ulric muttered, quietly.

"You're helping us a great deal," she confirmed, softly, "That deer will feed us for at least a month. You did a good-"

"I killed a helpless creature," Ulric interrupted, "I'm no better than that god-damned son of a b-"

With a swift strike, his mother leaned over to slap him across the face, an angry stare meeting him as he recoiled in surprise, holding his cheek as she spoke, gravely, "Don't you dare."

Ulric still had a look of indignation on his face, but he lowered his head nonetheless, reaching up and yanking the rag from his mother, "I'll do it myself."

She sighed, though ultimately stood up, relinquishing much of any control. She knew better at times like these, simply deciding to leave her son be, so she grabbed a dry towel to wipe her hands, shaking her head slowly in resignation.

"I wish he was dead," Ulric muttered, quietly, as his hand fell down into the water of the tub, "We'd be better off without him."

"Ulric…"

"He would hurt you anymore, he wouldn't make me be a coward and kill things or hit me just because. You and I would still be safe in Gilneas; we'd be happy without him. I could actually read and learn and actually make you proud of me instead of thinking I'm just a smaller version of fa-"

He'd broken into tears, but his mother had quickly knelt down, reaching around to hug him as he cried. She gently stroked his hair as he trembled, both from the tears and the cold, quietly calming him down as she whispered into his ear.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she cooed, sadly, "It'll be okay."

His cries lessened, but his body still shook with low gasps for air between each tear drop. His mother remained holding him until he finally calmed down, the only sound coming from his sniffling as he reached up to wipe off his face with his wet hand.

His mother remained behind him, quietly speaking to him in a warm voice, "Look Ulric, I've gotten to this point in my life, and I have you, the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me. I know you're not your father; I love you for being so kind and helpful and headstrong- it annoys me to know end sometimes, but that's the sort of thing that gives you a name in this world, you know?"

She smiled lightly, "Just…stay strong for a bit longer, alright? Then you can go off and, I don't know, study in Dalaran or- I know you mentioned Lakeshire after seeing pictures of Redridge. You can train horses or build houses- anything you want to do. But you have to be strong, alright? Promise me that?"

Ulric didn't reply for a moment, still sadly sulking in his bath, "Only if you promise to leave next time he hits you."

She sighed, "Ulric, I can't-"

"I'm old enough to know what he makes you do," Ulric interrupted, heatedly, "I hate him for it."

His mother caught speechless, her eyes peered away, unable to speak. Ulric didn't say anything more, knowing that his mother's silence was better than her slapping him again. He remained still as she pulled away from her hug, falling backward to sit down, quietly.

"Do you remember when you were younger," she began, almost with a heartbroken voice, "You would wait until we were all asleep. You hated sleeping in your bed, so you'd collect your blankets, set up a pallet at the side of our bed. You'd reach up and find my hand and hold it until you fell asleep."

Almost in tears herself, she pressed on, "I thought to myself, "Oh no". I knew, that early, you weren't going to be like your father. That you'd hate him when you figured out what he was doing."

She finally broke into tears, quietly, only the choking of her voice coming through as she continued, "And I hated myself, knowing you would grow up like this. I've been such a terrible mother to you, but I thought if I could be strong, no matter what your father did, I could help not make your life so miserable."

She lowered her head, sadly, taking a moment to catch her breath, "You asked why I married him…but you already know the answer, don't you?"

Ulric slowly nodded his head. He knew it hadn't been her choice. It hadn't ever been her choice; from the moment that man had laid eyes on her, it had been stripped from her. And now, here she was, holding it all together for her son- the only thing in her life worth living for.

She buried her head in her arm as she pulled her legs up toward her, outstretching her other arm over her knee and outward. Suddenly, a wet hand grasped her hand, holding it gently as she poured out her tears. Just like her hand had helped him sleep years ago, his now helped her to cry.

"Promise me," she spoke up, her voice barely escaping a whimper, "When your life becomes what you make of it… Please, just… Don't hold onto grudges, or the past. I want you to forget all of this. Be the man you want to be. Don't think about him, or me."

She shook her head, hidden in her arm, "Just think about your life. Your family. That would make me so happy, you have no idea."

Ulric heard her words, so intently listening beyond her tearful shaking. For this woman, his mother, whose entire life was dedicated to him being something, he knew he couldn't squander such a thing.

All he had to do, for now, was be as strong as she.