Eladea smiled quietly and shapeshifted again, loping ahead of the group. Her ears pricked forward and her tail swished happily as she trotted along the trail. Her draenei were still here. She anxiously ran ahead, then back to Maeorra, who lead the group, rumbling softly, and shooting ahead again, then stopping short at the edge of the settlement, ducking behind a bush. The panther sniffed the air and peered through the branches. She leapt out as she spotted Nhadiya, the Caretaker. The Duskheart family greeted the priestess heartily, and Eladea pranced at their feet, finally nudging Nhadi’s hip with her nose. She rumbled softly in her chest and drew her lips back in a toothy panther grin as Nhadi fussed over her and stroked her fur. Nhadi was one that was always happy to see Eladea in her panther form, rarely batting an eye at the druid’s preference for being shapeshifted.
A keening sound nearby caught Ela’s attention, and she tipped her head, ears swiveling in the direction of the sound. She looked up at Nhadiya and rumbled inquisitively, her brow creasing when the draenei pursed her lips. Ela sat, tail thrashing through the grass and wondering what the sound was. Her ears twitched and she peered in the direction of a smaller house set back in the trees. As the other druids chatted away with the draenei, Eladea slipped away, quietly prowling toward the house where the sound was coming from.
Just outside sat a large draenei man, wearing full leather and mail armor, with a rifle leaned on the outer wall of the house. The keening noise was louder, obviously coming from inside, and the man looked pained. She vaguely recognized him, but was having trouble after all these years putting a name to his face. Someone was inside, and it appeared he was standing guard over them. It sounded like a woman crying, or moaning, or someone in obvious distress. Ela sniffed the air as she grew closer, her yellow eyes blinking slowly behind the leaves of the bushes. Tensions were certainly high here. Sitting back on her haunches, Ela watched the hunter. If Maeorra and Nhadi were still around, Arloth was surely nearby. She couldn’t remember the hunter’s name, but gasped sharply as it occurred to her: What if the crying woman was…? She shook her head and tried to dismiss the idea.
Eladea started as the crying suddenly spiraled into loud, painful screams. She lowered herself closer to the ground and crept forward as the hunter shot up from his seat and bolted inside. Her ears rang as the woman continued to scream, inching inside the door, fairly certain that she would be unnoticed, as there were clearly heavier matters at hand.
Eladea sat down hard when she saw Lena sitting up in the bed, battered, bruised, bloody, screaming louder than anything the druid had ever heard from the mage.
What happened here?
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