Rheugan:... and Found

SO VERY DELAYED.

I don't even have a good excuse. Can I blame pet battles? And writer's block, though most of my distractions were simply doing other things rather than writing. I will try not to do this again... but no promises.  >_>

ANYWAYS, this pretty much catches up to where Rheu is at in-game. Things are starting to look up now, at least. Enjoy!

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Pitch wouldn’t admit it, but he was far more worried than he’d let on. He was certain Rheugan wasn’t in the Vale, but Kun-Lai was so Elune-blasted big, and he’d stupidly let enough time go by that he didn’t have a trail to follow. He kept searching anyway, unwilling to give up on the druid that had become almost like another brother.

By the third day, Pitch was feeling certain Rheu wasn’t in the Summit. He’d checked the Valley of Four Winds off and on too, but there was no trace of him there, either. He finally turned his wings east, hoping while he flew that his hunch was right.

The Tian Monastery hadn’t changed a bit in the weeks since he’d last been there - not surprising, since even the Sha attack on Serpent’s Heart hadn't ruffled the monks there. He found a groundskeeper in short order and gave him the name he’d gotten from Rheu, and within five minutes he was following the ‘keeper through the grounds.

Pitch had never met Laoden, but the pandaren that the groundskeeper led him too looked pretty much the same as any of his race. It didn’t take an especially sharp eye to tell that most of his heft was muscle rather than fat, but otherwise he could have passed for any Shado-pan fighter or Halfhill farmer. He turned to regard Pitch with friendly yet wary interest as introductions were exchanged, favoring the druid with a brief bow, then he dismissed the groundskeeper. His expression sharpened as he turned back to Pitch. “You’ve certainly taken long enough to get here.” Pitch’s ears went straight up in surprise. “Yes, I had guessed you would be coming,” Laoden said. “We’ve both been expecting you. Now come.”

*   *   *   *   *

The cat was sitting down beneath the orange tree, not moving except to test the breeze when it blew past. Pitch supposed Rheugan was down there too, but he had no way of knowing if he and the cat were “sharing,” or if he’d gone wherever it was he went when he wanted to think or hide. He - they? - looked at peace, at least, so that was something.

“He is fighting it.” Pitch glanced at the pandaren seated beside him, but Laoden was still watching the cat, with the same inscrutably calm expression he’d worn all day. “He is not tainted, not yet, but the temptation is there.”

Pitch turned back toward Rheugan, suppressing another pang of worry. “Is he a danger?” he asked, after a minute or two of silence. Laoden frowned slightly, considering. “At the moment, no,” he replied. “I wouldn’t presume to know the future, however. If he continues as he is, he could become one.” Now he looked at Pitch, offering the druid a faint smile. “He hides much. Maybe too much.”

Pitch flattened his ears briefly. “He’s had reason to,” he said. “He.. hasn’t been treated well in the past.” Laoden looked at him curiously, then shrugged when the druid said nothing more. “He is welcome to spend a few days here, to rest,” he said as he climbed to his feet. “After that...” The pandaren shrugged again.

Pitch blinked at him in surprise, which quickly turned to anger. “What, you’ll kick him out again? Isn’t that more or less how he wound up like this?” Laoden favored him with a reproachful look. “We did not ‘kick him out’ the first time, and we will not this time, either,” he replied. “You are assuming he will want to stay. He is looking for something here, druid, and he has not found it yet.”

Pitch felt himself flushing under his fur. “I’m sorry,” he started, but the pandaren was already gone. Pitch looked back down at Rheugan with a sigh. He wished Alanon was there. This was his job, not Pitch’s. But his brother was still back in Stormwind, so he would have to do what he could.

The cat glanced over briefly as Pitch padded over to sit next to him, just long enough for the elven druid to see the flash of guilt in his eyes. So, Rheu was in there. Pitch considered his options, then unshifted and made himself comfortable on the grass before finally breaking the silence.

“Do not,” he began, as forcefully as he dared, “think that this was all your fault. I’m to blame at least as much as you, I should have noticed something was going on and said something.” Rheugan shrank down as he spoke; Pitch tried gentling his tone a bit. “Rheugan, those things are like... like old gods. They’re strong, they’re evil, and if they want you, they’re darned well going to try and get to you. Cenarius’ horns, Rheu, even I had some trouble with them when I first got here.”

That got his attention. Rheugan sat up and blinked at him, the last traces of the cat’s presence fading. “I... but...” Some of the shame returned, and he ducked his head again. “I.. I am sorrry,” he rumbled. “I didn’t want you to worrry.” Pitch just made a noncommittal sound as he eyed the younger druid carefully. “Do you need to go home, Rheu?” he finally asked bluntly. “Mean, this kind of thing might happen again, and if it’s too much for you...”

Rheugan shook his head firmly, then unshifted to settle on the grass, in an unconscious mimicry of Pitch’s pose. “I.. I have to be here,” he said, a bit uncertainly. “I don’t know if I can put it the right way, but...

“Shaurria said once that I was out of balance. I... I’m starting to get it back, but it’s all in.. in pieces. Northrend was a part of it, and so was Gilneas. But I’m not finished yet, Pitch. There’s something here that I have to find; I just don’t know what it is yet.” He looked up again, and a trace of what might have been a smile crossed his face at Pitch’s expression. “What do you think I do when I’m out ‘thinking,’ Pitch? I’m not debating the color of the sky, I assure you.”

Pitch coughed. “Yea, I suppose not,” he said with a bit of chagrin. Then he focused back on the younger druid. “Are you really, really sure, Rheu?” Rheugan nodded again wordlessly. Pitch sighed and looked up at the tree branches overhead, as if searching for inspiration.

“Well, we both need rest,” he said finally. “Why don’t we stay here a couple days, then maybe take a trip back to Stormwind? Just a short visit.” Rheugan nodded, his eyes fixed off in the distance again. Pitch reached over to gently touch his arm. “We’ll figure something out, Rheu,” he said softly. “I promise.”
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Small disclaimer- I am not trying to meta-game here. Pitch doesn't know that the Sha really are part of the Old Gods, but he needed a comparison and, since a good deal of the last 2 expansions involved the Old Gods and their effects, that was simply the first thing that came to mind. So, carry on. XD

Family Additions

Just because I love the civets in the Vale. I even managed to snag a rare-quality of each, adult and kitten, and they're both leveled to 25 already. Enjoy the cute.
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"We should sit outside, you said. It's a nice day, you said." Pitch eyed Lark suspiciously. "If I didn't think I knew better, I'd say you planned this."

Lark said nothing, though she didn't bother hiding her grin. Her eyes stayed on her son, however, as she supported Loren in a sitting position in front of her. Loren's attention in turn was focused on the small golden animal that was creeping up to sniff at his toes.

The civet- not a weasel, as Pitch had thought until Lark corrected him- had shown up a day ago, although Pitch hadn't paid it much attention then. Pandarian animals seemed to be extremely friendly and trusting, if the number of critters that had taken to following him around were any indication. The little civet was just one more of those, and he'd figured it would lose interest like all the rest, and he'd never see it again.

But this one had not only been waiting for them this afternoon, it had apparently brought its parents along too. Going by scent, it was the mother civet that kept dancing around them just within view, while the father was much bolder. He'd already tried to climb up Pitch's side to get a better sniff at his face, an attempt that Pitch had ended by shaking him off and switching to his elven shape. The male civet had left him alone after that and was now curled into a ball to one side, watching his offspring interact with the baby.

Loren chortled as the baby civet's whiskers tickled his toes, followed by a  quick tongue-swipe. The little critter sneezed, then turned and capered off a little ways to roll around in the grass. Loren watched it in fascination as Lark finally turned to her mate.

"I doubt they're going to go anywhere, babe, not if they've been hanging around this long," she told him. "You might want to accept the fact that you've been adopted."

Pitch mmphed. "They might have asked first," he grumbled, drawing another broad grin from Lark. "Well, now you know how I feel sometimes," she said, nodding toward Quiloe and Komah, who were lounging in the shade nearby. Komah's eyes opened briefly as he rumbled a reply, which made her chuckle. Pitch raised an eyebrow at her. "Do I want to know what he said?"

She grinned wickedly at him. "He suggested you think up names for them." Pitch just sighed.

The male chose that moment to come up to Lark, approaching her from the side and out of Loren's reach- he'd already had his tail pulled a couple times. She reached over to pet him and he chirred, arching his back up catlike to meet her fingers. She glanced back at Pitch, growing a bit more serious.

"Look at it this way, babe. Are they bothering you in any way? Do you need to feed them or clean after them?" Pitch shook his head no. "You know the answer to that. All they do is show up and follow me around, then go off by themselves when I get back here." He waved a hand at the Shrine of Seven Stars behind them.

"Well then," she replied, "why not let them stay around? They are cute, and they might wind up being useful."

Pitch remained silent for a minute, watching the two civets with a thoughtful frown. Finally he shrugged. "I'll have to try and teach Ishnu to leave them alone. And if they do decide to move indoors, I hope you remember it was your idea." Lark just snickered.

The young one wandered over to Pitch and nuzzled under his knee, making a cozy little nest for itself. Pitch started gently scratching its back, and it wriggled around to lick at his fingers before curling up to sleep.

Loren

Oh my golly, it's an actual story post! /gasp

Yea, my writer's block? The one that's persisted over the last several months? It hasn't been fun. But at least now I know that if it happens again, all I need to do to fix it is have my characters have a baby... >.>

Also? This was fun, and now I want to do Loren arts. :D
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Shad had left almost as soon as they determined that mother and baby were both healthy. Pitch couldn't blame him; it was probably closer to morning rather than night by now. He walked Alanon and a yawning Shaurria to the door, then went back upstairs to the bedroom. Lark was still in bed, of course, with Loren cradled carefully in her lap. She stared at the baby in fascination, gently running one finger over his tiny fist as he lay sleeping.

She looked up when Pitch sat down beside her, giving him a smile that almost hid how tired she was. "He looks like you," she said softly. Pitch leaned over to peer at his son. "Yea, I guess he does," he agreed. "He's got more of your coloring, though."

They both lay there together watching the sleeping baby, Lark shifting over to lean on his shoulder. He sensed when she started to doze off and nudged her gently, asking her, "Do you want me to take him so you can sleep?"

Lark stirred herself awake at his words. "No, I'm fine," she answered, though she still sounded tired. "He'll need to eat soon, won't he? I need to be awake for that." Pitch chuckled quietly, and she frowned. Before she could say anything, he bent to kiss her forehead, then gathered Loren up. "Sleep," he said softly. "I'll wake you, don't worry." She just sighed, then settled back against the pillows. Within moments she was fast asleep.

*   *   *   *   *

A whimper pulled Pitch from sleep. It was still dark, but the faint touch of grey outside the window hinted at dawn's approach. He slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Lark; she stirred in her sleep but didn't wake. Silently he padded over to the cradle.

Loren lay quietly, whether awake or still asleep, it was hard to say. Pitch gingerly lifted him up and carried him over to the nearby chair, then settled his son on his lap. For a moment he just watched him, then with a deep breath, he summoned the cat.

It responded immediately, as he knew it would. Snarling, it threw itself against the barriers he had put up in his mind, fighting furiously for a few minutes before it grudgingly subsided. Stand still, he said to it. Look at him. I want you to know him.

The cat wanted to ignore him. What did it care for such a small scrap of elf meat? It wanted out. Snarling again, it continued testing the bars' strength, searching for a weakness that was, to its eternal frustration, no longer there. Pitch sighed, very quietly, then gave it the mental equivalent of seizing its scruff and shaking it. No, he told it firmly. This is your cub, your heir, as much as it is mine. You will not touch a hair of his head, or so help me I will destroy you.

The cat snorted, disbelieving. If he destroyed the cat, he would destroy himself, and the cat refused to believe he would ever do that. Try me, Pitch told it flatly. If it will keep him safe, I will do anything it takes- including sacrificing myself. You had best learn that, if you want to survive.

The cat was less certain now. He felt it reading his thoughts, considering, before at last it submitted to him. He allowed it to peer through his eyes at the newborn in his lap. His own nostrils flared as the cat took in the baby's scent, then it left him, sinking back into its cage within Pitch's mind.

Pitch slowly let out the breath he'd been holding. The worst battle was over; Loren was as safe as Pitch could make him. He got up, a little stiffly, and settled the infant back in his cradle, then climbed back into his own bed, next to Lark. She snuggled up to him automatically, and he let himself drift back to sleep.

Planning at the Pig

This is a bit old, but figured I'd do something about the recent RP.

Lorelli surprised us all with invites to a "party" from one of her old... "acquaintances," and thought of trying to fit as many Riders and allies as possible into the place, to try and stir things up, or at least get some info on other relevant stuff. There was a good deal of discussion, then the possibility of a fight came up. Considering that Lark is about 6 months pregnant by now, I think you can guess what she and Pitch thought about that. Once the main details had been hammered out, they went outside the Pig to talk things over.

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Pitchblàck eyes Wildlark up and down.

Wildlark eyes him back.

Pitchblàck flattens his ears slightly.

Lorelli eyes Annalea thoughtfully.

Annalea says: Hmm?

Wildlark gives a quiet sigh.

Lorelli says: Just trying to figure out where you'll do the most good.

Wildlark says: Excuse us a minute

Jahira watches Pitch and Lark curiously.

Wildlark says: All right, out with it

Pitchblàck looks guilty.

Pitchblàck says: If there's going to be fighting, I don't think you should go

Pitchblàck says: I know you want to, but...

Wildlark sighs again. "And you're probably right."

Wildlark grins crookedly. "Could have picked better timing, hm?"

Pitchblàck says: We didn't know all this was going to happen

Pitchblàck says: Few more months, right? Then we can let his aunts and uncle worry about him

Wildlark says: I know

Pitchblàck takes her hand and rubs it gently.

Pitchblàck says: So....?

Wildlark says: .... all right

Wildlark leans.

Wildlark says: .... just come back to me in one piece

Pitchblàck says: Always

Pitchblàck hugs.

Wildlark says: Let me go find Rheugan, so he can hear the details

Pitchblàck says: Mkay. Heading home after?

Wildlark nods into his chest.

Pitchblàck squeezes, then lets go.

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Poor Lark. The Riders are being awesome and trying to help come up with things she can do, but we are mostly coming up dry right now. Hopefully she'll find something she can do soon, before she goes crazy with boredom.

On a side note, this is one reason why they are working so well as a couple, and why I love them so much. They talk, about nearly everything, even if their conversations are just inside my head (while I'm at work, dinking on alts, playing other games, etc.).

Oh, Pitch....

One of those times that you just want to stop your character and tell them he/she is being stupid, before they put their foot in their mouth. This is a good example of why I love RPing him so much.

If it isn't obvious, they were discussing Lark. >.>
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Shad says: How is she doing?

Pitchblàck shrugs, then grins.

Pitchblàck says: Well enough. She decided that today was bath day

Pitchblàck says: I would have helped but she had Quae and Barraccus, so I was in the way

Pitchblàck says: The only one that needs held is Quiloe, anyway, and she's small

Jahira chuckles.

Rheugan snickers.

Windstar blinks, then goes 'oh'.

Pitchblàck blinks at Windstar. "What?"

Threnn grins at Star and Pitch.

Pitchblàck says: What did you think I meant?

Windstar shrugs.

Threnn says: Likely the same thing I did.

Shad says: And I.

Pitchblàck blinks at Threnn.

Pitchblàck says: ... oh. Hmm

Windstar kitty-grins at Threnn.

Jahira chuckles again, ruffling Star's ears.

Pitchblàck says: She was giving the animals their baths. My sister and her mate were helping

Windstar purrs.

Pitchblàck says: Better?

Threnn says: Suppose.

Windstar says: Yes, much

Shad says: I was going to start talking about how good temperate baths can be for a pregnant woman, so yes, the clarification is a help.

Zeve says: M'plannin' a trip to the Hot Springs now, though, so.

Zeve nods at you.

Zeve says: Thanks, mate.

Shad grins wickedly at Zeve.

Windstar blinks at Zeve.

Rheugan covers his face with his hand, making suspicious snickering noises.
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At least he didn't mention that if she was the one taking the bath, he'd more than likely be in it with her... I mean, uh *cough*

First, Finest, and Last: Pitch

This started out as a thread in the WFR forums here. I joined in the parade of posts and wound up writing one for both Pitch and Rheugan, but then promptly forgot about them. In the interest of non-blog-silence, and to motivate me to finish writing these for the rest of the toons I was planning to, I figured I'd finally stick them up here as well. Enjoy!

Keep in mind these are from several months ago, so yes, they are a little out of date now. Sorry. >.>
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His first had been Learah, and it still hurt to think of her. For three seasons he had put up with her whims, the teases and torments she thought up for him. He had figured out pretty quick that she didn't love him, but he had still done his best by her, damnit, and it still hadn't been enough. When the inevitable moment came and she had cast him aside, he had wanted to kill her. Now, he satisfied himself with the simple belief that whatever had happened to her, it must have been exactly what she deserved.

Technically, his first had been a stag, taken in the Ashenvale forest near his brother's house. Discounting all non-sentients, however.... his first known kill had been a naga off the Zoram strand. She had been focusing on Alanon as he fought off her myrmidon guards, preparing to blast the elder druid with some spell that had been coating her webbed fingers in ice, and it had been no trouble at all for Pitch to sneak in behind her and jump on her neck. He had felt so.. detached, even as his fangs met through her throat. It wasn't for another year that he had learned it was the cat, coming to the surface at the moment of the kill, that prevented him from ever feeling anything when he killed. He had had to go wash the blood off afterward, and to this day he still considered naga blood one of the most vile things in existence.

His first had been Alanon, whom he loved with a hero-worship that still hadn't faded after six centuries. There was nothing, in Pitch's mind, that his brother couldn't do. It didn't matter that his own abilities, or lack thereof, kept him from learning all the druidic magic that Alanon had to teach. His brother had taught him everything else he needed to know.



He still considered his finest to be Skyborne. Sure, she had kept him confused and off-balance more times than not, but she had been the first person he'd felt comfortable with since his arrival in Stormwind. She had been the reason he hadn't immediately turned tail and gone back to his home in Ashenvale. And that night in Fells' barn, as she writhed on top of him and his back bled from her nails into the straw, he had finally felt the last of the chains Learah had put on his heart fall away.

His finest had also been his hardest. Ursoc was his god, but he had been corrupted by Yogg-Saron. His salvation lay in his death, and Pitch had faced it like every other challenge in his life- full throttle, no holds barred. The fight had been brutal, chaotic and excessively long, but in the end, as he watched the cleansed spirit of his deity fade into the air, the only thing Pitch could feel was satisfaction.

His finest had been the ancient, weather-beaten druid that had found him when his cat went out of control. The old codger had never given his name in all the months Pitch had stayed with him, but Pitch owed him his life all the same. He'd promised Pitch he'd teach him to "control" the cat. At first he'd been convinced the old man didn't know what he was doing; later on he'd been convinced the old man would kill him. But despite all his doubts, in the end it was he that was in control and not the cat, and for that Pitch would be forever grateful.



His last had been Lark, of course. They'd been at it pretty regularly, hoping beyond hope that somehow Shad's crazy plan had worked, that they would find out the baby she wanted so badly was on its way. Pitch himself wasn't sure what he wanted. He didn't know if he was ready for fatherhood, kept telling himself that he was still too young. But Lark wanted it, and after all they had been through already, he knew he'd give her anything she asked for... because he loved her.

His last had been a flame druid in the Molten Front. Weakened by two of Lark's arrows embedded in its torso, it had been an easy kill. He sometimes wondered if he should feel bad about killing them; it was possible they had simply been misguided by Staghelm, after all, and they were still of his people. But all it took was to see another of the fire druids in its cat form take a flying leap at his mate, and all thoughts of sympathy fled in favor of his protective rage. There was only the next kill.

His last was the Riders, and he still didn't know how that had happened. He had nothing in common with any of them, really, and he had always been on his own before. But however it had happened, he was one of them now, and he would bleed and kill for any of them, no questions asked. That was just what you did for your pack.

Gifts

(Yea, yea, it's a day late. I know. :P)
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"I made you somethin' for Win'erveil."

Rheugan's initial reaction- to correct Shaur's grammar yet again- was halted once her words registered. "You made something for me?" She nodded, beaming as she held out a small object, just a shade smaller than her hand.

Rheugan took it hesitantly, holding it in one hand as he examined it. It was a wooden disk, carved on both sides. On the side he was currently staring at, a remarkable likeness of the cat's head looked back at him. The carving was rough, but the detail in the cat's expression, and the fur etched into the wood, threatened to take his breath away. He looked up at her again. "So this is what you've been hiding from me. I didn't know you carved. This is excellent."

Shaurria beamed even more at his praise. "S'more on th' back. Turn it over," she urged, and he did, then froze when he saw the other side.

Carved into the other side of the disk was a wolf's head. The detail was as fine as the cat's, but while Rheugan knew it was him in his worgen form, there was none of the savageness he would have expected to see. It looked alert, yet calm.... peaceful - like he himself had never felt while under its sway.

He momentarily forgot about Shaurria as he studied it, lost in conflicting emotions, until her fingers gently brushed his cheek. He jumped and looked up at her, startled, and she gave him a shy smile as she showed him the tear she had wiped away. "D'you like it?" she asked, with a trace of uncertainty. "I.. I wasn't too sure on what t' put on it..."

He shook his head, returning to his study of the carving. "It's beautiful. I can't believe you got it looking this accurate when you've only seen the wolf once."

"Got a good mem'ry," she said. "An'da 'n Arvoss both say so, anyway." Still shy, she reached out and took his hand. "So y'like it?"

Rheugan nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "It's perfect. Best present I've ever gotten."

"Liar." She grinned at him mischievously, then joined in when he started chuckling.

* * * * * *

It was ridiculously late. Lark knew she should have gone to bed ages ago, but Pitch didn't spend as much time with his siblings as he really should, and she hated pulling him away from the "party" early. By the time they got back to their little house, the moon was well up, the streets quiet.

Pitch was grinning as they climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Lark knew he had something up his sleeve, but knew better than to ask him about it before he was ready to tell. She didn't have to wait long, anyway, as he gently pushed her toward the bed before going to the dresser and rummaging in a drawer.

By the time he located whatever he was looking for she had settled herself in bed, and he wasted no more time in joining her. The grin on his face was, if anything, even bigger as he showed her the small bottle he had found. She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Are you going to tell me what that is, or do I have to guess?" she asked him dryly. He answered by popping the top off the bottle, and she caught a whiff of something herbal as he poured a small amount into his palm. "Massage oil," he announced. "Happy Winter Veil, my love. Would you mind moving the sheet?"

She complied with a grin to match his own, then settled back comfortably as he started gently rubbing the oil onto the growing swell of her belly. "But I didn't get you anything," she said after a few minutes, a touch of drowsiness in her voice. Pitch glanced at her, then stopped rubbing for a moment, his hand resting over their unborn baby. "This is enough," he told her, then leaned over for a kiss before resuming the massage. Silence, broken only by Tuah's sleepy rumble from across the room, descended again for several minutes.

Lark had almost fallen asleep when he stopped suddenly with a grunt of surprise. She opened one eye to look at him, then grinned as he gaped at her. "Was that...?"

"Yes Pitch," she told him. "Guess he got tired of hiding from you... or maybe he's ticklish." She gave a grunt of her own as the baby kicked again, but Pitch's wondering expression more than made up for any discomfort. The massage forgotten, he turned cat and curled up beside her with his head resting on her belly. She finally fell asleep with her fingers buried in his fur, listening to his steady purr.
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I kinda want to do a picture of Pitch and Lark now, but that would more than likely be NSFW, soooo... >.>

..... Maybe I'll do it anyway, we'll see. *Ahem* Happy Holidays, and Happy Hunting!

Sick

I got the inspiration for this while I still had my cold, and figured that if I was sick, there was no reason why my characters shouldn't be, too. Yes, I'm a meanie. This story idea just puttered around in my head for a while, then I started writing it after my cold was gone. For lack of anything else to write, I finally got around to finishing it.

This would be from several weeks ago- Lark's cold is long gone by now, same as my own. Also, have I mentioned how much I love my characters? >.>

(I'm not forgetting Rheugan's post, just need to finish writing it. >.>)

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There were, Pitch reflected, some advantages to being bigger than your mate- one of those being she couldn't push you out of bed. Not that she wasn't trying.

"I dode wadda gib you by code!" Lark's feet pushed futilely against his hip again. Pitch suppressed a sigh.

"You won't give me your cold," he told her again, patiently. "I'm too stubborn to get sick anyway." He didn't mention that his throat had been scratchy that morning, so he'd probably already caught it. Which was why he'd helped himself to his brother's "cold tea" when Alanon had brought some by earlier; if he was catching it, it wouldn't last long, not with that tea.

Lark herself had had two cups of the tea, plus as much soup as he could get her to eat- and thank Elune her morning sickness seemed to be mostly gone. An added benefit was that with her belly full, she was too sleepy to put up much of a fight.

Almost as soon as he had that thought, she suddenly gave up the fight, rolling to her side and pulling the blankets up. "Fide den," she muttered, slurring slightly. "Dode blabe be if you get zick." Pitch smiled to himself. "I won't," he told her, though he was doubtful she even heard him.

He gave her a bit to fall asleep, then slid under the blankets next to her, snuggling up close with a contented sigh. Within minutes, he too had fallen fast asleep.

Pitch: Tracking

Backstory for this one? The Riders have had a couple of their people turn up missing- namely Bricu and Shad. They disappeared under very strange circumstances, with fairly obvious SI:7 involvement, and the rest of the Riders, including Pitch and Lark, were getting stressed and jumpy. Bricu turned up again last RP night, fortunately, and while the "trail" was fresh, Pitch was asked to go track Bricu back to the SI:7 hideout he'd been held at.

There is a forum thread about it here.

Enjoy!
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The scent trail led to a grate set low in the Mage District wall. Pitch sniffed long and hard at the ground, making certain of where the trail led, before he finally went to examine the grate. He barely heard Bricu's motorbike start up again and move off, as the paladin headed for his home.

He had to go elf in order to move the grate, then he slipped through, pulling it shut again behind him, just in case. He returned to his cat form, picked up the thread of Bricu's scent, and padded down the tunnel. Kal'dorei night vision combined with his cat eyes allowed him to see in the darkness easily. The tunnel smelled musty, but had a "used" feel. It ran ahead of him for several hundred feet before he came to the first intersection.

Pitch paused and stared down each of the new tunnels for a moment, sniffing the air. The faint scent of humans reached him from one, and he wanted to explore them both, but on the other hand... Bricu's scent trail still went straight ahead, so after a brief debate Pitch continued on his way. He had a job to do, and he could always backtrack later.

He passed two more intersections, but Bricu's trail never left the main tunnel, so neither did Pitch. The tang of magic in the trail was getting stronger, however, and he wondered where exactly he was going to end up. Then he came to the door.

It was fairly unassuming, as doors went, but Pitch felt the faint crackle of warding magic in his whiskers as he approached. He stopped a safe distance away and studied the door, faintly regretting his own inability with magic. The tunnel was swept clear; there wasn't even a piece of trash to toss at the door, to try and trigger the ward that way. Finally Pitch left his cat form, then took a deep breath, sent a silent apology to Lark in case things went wrong, and touched the door.

Nothing happened, which was perhaps more worrying than if there'd been an explosion. The ward simply flared slightly, then faded, leaving the door free to open. Pitch wasted no time in searching for the latch, but the door didn't seem to have one. He muttered a curse under his breath, then started feeling around the edges for anything that would open the door. Seconds ticked by, and Pitch's imagination supplied him with various scenes of guards coming down on him, alerted by the ward. "Oh, by Ursol's left-"

Snick. Something gave under his questing fingers, and the door swung toward him, opening about an inch. Pitch let out his breath as quietly as he could, then shifted back to cat and warily poked his nose out. He was greeted by the scent of magic so strong it felt like a slap in his nostrils, and when he peered out he was confronted by a wall of pulsing green.

It took him a moment to realize he was behind the portal in the Mage Tower. A cautious sniff proved there was no one else in the room, so he eased out of the hole in the wall to look around. The teachers and portal masters all appeared to have gone to bed, and there was no trace of anyone else, so after a brief inspection Pitch slipped back into the tunnel.

He now knew where the Sevens had brought Bricu from, so it seemed like a good time to go back and explore those side tunnels. He trotted back down into the darkness.

* * * * *

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Pitch watched warily from the shadows as a pair of guards squinted down the tunnel. Their voices echoed faintly down to his ears.

"Are you certain you saw something? It might've just been a rat."

"Pfah. Rats aren't three feet tall with glowy eyes. I'm telling you there's something there."

Three feet tall? Pitch didn't know whether to laugh or growl, but knew better than to do either. He held his tongue and waited for their next move.

"Well, I don't see it." The first guard spat, then turned back to his post. "If you're so frightened of being down here, why don't you go up to Gallina's and help yourself to the wine?" He gestured toward the door they guarded with his hand crossbow.

Gallina's? Well, at least he had a rough idea where he was now. As the second guard returned to his post and the two continued their bickering, he turned and slipped back down the way he had come.

The next door he came to was also guarded, so he didn't even try to get close. The one beyond that looked promising, however, with the tunnel ending at an unguarded, tiny stairwell. The rickety steps- more ladder, really- led up to another hidden door, which led to...

Cool night air hit his nose, although his view was blocked by a stack of crates. No matter. Pitch marked the place in his mind and continued on.

The next tunnel he found was a long one, ending at a stout wooden door guarded by no less than five men. Pitch gave a frustrated huff and turned to go back.

"What was that?"

He froze as the voice rang out, then heavy footsteps started heading in his direction. Without looking back, Pitch quickly slunk down the tunnel toward the nearest branch-off, but the persistent guard stayed on his heels, followed by at least one of the others. He reached the crossing tunnel just ahead of their torchlight and ducked in, his black fur melting into the shadows. He shut his eyes to hide their glow, tracking the guards by scent and sound.

"It was probably nothing. We would have found something by now." Yes, listen to your buddy, Pitch thought, but the leading pair of boots kept coming closer, bringing the torchlight with them.

"You know what Shaw will do if anything gets into the Keep," the first guard replied harshly. "I'm not going back til I'm sure." The Keep! No wonder they were jumpy. Pitch held his breath, his muscles tensing involuntarily as the footsteps came closer; five yards, then three. Then they were right on top of him, and Pitch waited for the shout of discovery, preparing to dash out and try for that door he had found earlier...

Then the boots were retreating back down the tunnel, the other guard cracking jokes to the first about "dedication to duty," and Pitch slowly let out the breath he'd been holding. He waited until he heard nothing from the guards, then cautiously made his way back to the unguarded door.

It exited out into an alcove, the door hidden from the outside by the stack of crates. Pitch made sure to replace the crates exactly the way they had been once he was outside, then took a moment to get his bearings. He quickly recognized the Cathedral looming up nearby, and fixed the door's location in his memory, in case any of the Riders wanted to see where it was. Then he shifted to a bird and made his tired way home. Maybe Lark would still be up, waiting for him.

Options, part 2

And finished!
_________________

The list lay in the middle of the kitchen table. On either side sat the two Kal'dorei, Lark sipping her tea while Pitch studied the paper again, chin on his fists on the table. He glanced up just in time to catch Lark's grimace, and grinned. "My sisters have told me that earthroot tastes terrible," he said helpfully. Lark swatted at him.

"Just make up your mind which item you want to try for first," she told him. "Besides, I'm not sure I want to know why your sisters were telling you about earthroot anyway."

Pitch smirked, but went back to the list. He tapped the name on top with a finger. "This totem thingy might be easy to find. Maybe." He looked up again. "I still say we should at least try Ulduar. It would save time."

Lark shrugged. "Do we really want to drag who-knows-how-many others into it? Besides, what if no one's interested?"

Pitch gave an exasperated sigh. "They are Riders," he said slowly and carefully. "So are you. If nobody's interested I'll eat my tail." He cocked his head at her. "It won't hurt anything to ask, and if no one comes..." He tapped the paper meaningfully.

Lark watched him with a rueful half-grin. "Are you trying to say that I'm too used to working on my own?" she joked. Pitch didn't bother to answer the mostly-rhetorical question, absorbed in studying the list again. Lark sighed. "I am, I think. All right, what do you say we make a notice or something, and see who shows interest?" Pitch's reply was a broad grin.

The next day a small sign was posted on the Pig's bulletin board. In an untidy scrawl it read:

("Good gods, Pitch, that's your handwriting? They won't even be able to read it."

"Hush you.")

Riders-
Pitch and Lark need assistance in getting into Ulduar. Further details will be provided at the Pig on the next pub night.

("Hopefully that will keep people from trying to track us down every hour of the day."

"Should I add anything else?"

"No, that's probably good.")

Signed, Pitch and Lark

("That was probably pretty obvious from the first line, Pitch."

"Eh, I like to be thorough.")

Pitch and Lark: Options

I mentioned before that Lark was involved in some RP to fix her infertility. Shad's player has been helping out with that, and she's been beyond awesome. Lark had her initial tests, and last night Shad let them know that he had some news for them.

Yay, chatlogs?

I'm actually writing the next part for this, which should hopefully go up later today (because if it doesn't it'll be late >.>).

Note: Yes, they are talking about girly things. There's nothing explicit going on, but if you're easily embarrassed... well, you've been warned.

_____________

[ExileIC] Shad: Pitch? Lark? Are you about?
[ExileIC] Wildlark: Yes
[ExileIC] Shad: Would you be interested in meeting?
[ExileIC] Wildlark: Yes, where did you want to meet?
[ExileIC] Shad: Either the Pig or out by Olivia's Pond. The Pond is quieter.
[ExileIC] Wildlark: Pond sounds good, we'll be right there

Pitchblàck says: Found you!

Shad smiles. "Good job."

Shad says: How are you both doing?

Pitchblàck says: Our house has a porch!

Wildlark snerks at Pitch.

Shad grins at Pitchblàck wickedly.

Wildlark says: We're both fine

Shad says: Some of you seem to be in particularly good moods.

Pitchblàck says: This is fairly typical for me

Shad grins.

Wildlark says: It is

Shad says: Well, hopefully this will only make things better.

Pitchblàck 's ear twitches as Wynd gnaws on his tail.

Wildlark says: You found something?

Shad says: More precisely, I found absolutely nothing.

Wildlark pulls a toy from her pocket and tosses it.

Shad says: Which is, in its way, something.

Wildlark raises an eyebrow. "Something good?"

Shad says: In this case, yes. The female reproductive cycle depends on a certain cycle of chemicals the body produces. At present, your body is not currently producing one of them, so your cycle has simply...gone dormant.

Wildlark blinks.

Shad says: It is not altogether uncommon amongst kal'dorei.

Wildlark says: ... makes sense, I guess. Can you fix it?

Shad nods.

Shad says: The question is how you wish to go about it.

Pitchblàck looks curious. "Is it something you can just... magic up?"

Shad shakes his head. "Not I. There are...three options. One is, I give you herbs to take. You can take them in tea or simply eat them. In six to nine months, you should begin to have cycles again."

Wildlark nods.

Shad says: Another route is, you obtain a few items of potent healing power from certain locations in Outland, and I can treat it magically over the course of four to six weeks.

Wildlark blinks, looking extremely curious. "What items?"

Pitchblàck pricks his ears.

Shad says: I have a list here. I would need...either the Totem of Spontaneous Growth or Quagmirran's Eye. Both of those would be found in the Slave Pens.

Shad says: In Underbog, you could find either the Alembic of Infernal Power --do not be disturbed by the name--or the Stormshield of Renewal.

Wildlark nods again.

Shad says: And then...in the Botanica. Either Prismatic Mittens of Mending or the Warp Splinter's Thorn.

Shad says: But, if you wanted instantaneous and absolutely certain results, there is still one more option.

Wildlark cocks her head.

Shad says: You would need to travel into Ulduar and touch an Eonar's Gift.

Wildlark blinks. "And that's it? That's all it would take?"

Shad nods. "They are extremely powerful healing plants. The problem would be getting to them and not, ah...being smashed by Freya, if she is unwell."

Wildlark says: True

Pitchblàck does not look happy about the smashing bit.

Pitchblàck says: If you do that, I'm coming with you

Shad says: But yes. You could start trying immediately then, though no guarantees you would become pregnant immediately.

Shad grins. "And I would recommend going home first, naturally."

Wildlark says: Babe, I wouldn't make you stay behind

Shad says: You would probably need several helpers. Something we could likely cast about for.

Pitchblàck looks mollified.

Wildlark nods. The wheels in her head are obviously spinning.

Shad says: I would leave the choice to you. If you like, I can give you a two week's supply of the herbs to use while you decide. No reason not to get started on them.

Wildlark nods again.

Shad reaches into his bag for a few small pouches and offers them over. "Crush all three herbs together."

Wildlark takes them with a brief smile. "Thanks."

Shad smiles.

Shad says: Do you have any questions?

Wildlark says: This will fix it, right? Any of those three?

Shad nods. "Yes."

Wildlark says: I mean, permanently?

Shad says: Well, it is possible your body might sink into dormancy again if you had a long period of sexual inactivity.

Wildlark gives a crooked grin. "Not too much worry there."

Shad smiles. "I did not think so."

Pitchblàck clears his throat, turning a shade or two darker under his fur.

Wildlark grins again, reaching over to ruffle Pitch's ears.

Shad chuckles softly.

Wildlark says: We'll talk this over, and I'll get back to you once we've decided what to do

Shad nods.

Pitchblàck nods.

Shad says: Very well.

Shad says: And do let me know if you have any questions in the meanwhile.

Shad brushes his pants off.

Wildlark says: Of course

Shad says: Oh...and where -is- this house with a porch?

Wildlark grins. "Little place right next to the enchanter's shop."

Shad says: New lodgings?

Wildlark nods.

Shad says: Congratulations.

Shad grins. "Solid lodgings are the first step toward becoming a parent, you know."

Wildlark says: I had been staying in the University dorms. Arrens wouldn't have kicked me out, but I prefer not to impose

Shad nods.

Wildlark grins back. "It even has a spare bedroom."

Shad says: -Perfect-.

Shad says: All right. Do have a good evening, both of you.

Pitchblàck says: You too!

Shad bows down graciously.

Wildlark says: Goodnight Shad, and thanks

Playtime

And now for something happier!

________________

Lark held up her creation. "What do you think?"

Pitch eyed it doubtfully. "A feathered leather ball? What does it do?"

Lark just grinned, then looked down at Wynd. The little wintersaber cub was sitting at her feet, watching expectantly. Lark hefted the ball, then threw it, and Wynd leaped after it, pouncing on the toy with a growl before bringing it back. There was a brief tug-of-war before he relinquished the ball to Lark, but he let it go without too much difficulty.

Lark grinned at Pitch triumphantly as Wynd sat back down at her feet, ready for another throw. Pitch grunted in amusement. "Seems to have met his approval. Clever." Lark passed him the ball, and he looked it over before tossing it for the cub. "He sure seems to-"

Pitch broke off whatever he was saying as a big shape suddenly charged in from the side. The two Kal'dorei gaped as Tuah went rushing past them. Wynd squealed and dashed out of the way as the big tiger pounced on the toy. He settled on the ground with the ball between his forepaws, sniffing it over curiously.

Pitch glanced at Lark with one eyebrow raised. "Does he do that often?"

Lark just laughed. "You're supposed to bring that back, silly!" she called to the tiger. Tuah twitched one ear in her direction and chuffed, then stood up and trotted toward them, the ball almost hidden in his jaws.

Wynd, watching the huge cat warily, suddenly realized that Tuah had his toy. With a squeaky growl he jumped at the tiger, smacking into the side of his head. Tuah stopped in his tracks, rolling onto his side with a groan. Wynd immediately began chewing on the closest ear, until he noticed that Tuah had dropped the ball. He gave up the ear to pounce onto the ball, then proceeded to prance around the bigger cat, holding his prize high. Tuah just lay where he fell, watching him.

Pitch looked over at Lark, keeping a straight face with an obvious effort. "They're your cats, you know," he told her. Lark dissolved into helpless giggles. Pitch just watched her, until Wynd came over and dropped the ball on her face. Then his composure cracked, and he fell over on top of her, laughing his head off.

Wynd watched his people curiously, cocking his head to one side. Then he trotted back to Tuah and curled up at the tiger's side, chewing contentedly at his toy.

______________

And side note- my raid group took down 7 bosses tonight! Magmaw, Omnitron, and Maloriak were all one-shots, while Atramedes took 2. Chimaeron gave us some trouble, but we got him in the end. And then we proceeded to Bastion of Twilight and one-shot both Halfus and the Dargon Twins. We had a few good attempts at the Ascendant Council, but they are continuing to defy us. We're gonna extend our raid lockout on them, so next week after we beat down BWD (again, muahaha), we can go straight back to the Council.

And now I have to sleep before I pass out on my keyboard. Happy Hunting!

Pitch: Lost

I really don't know where this came from.Well, okay, maybe I do, but it's a long story. *Deep breath*

I never really intended for Lark and Pitch to be anything other than just friends. Just goes to show how little control I really have over my characters, right? The main thing is actually Pitch. He simply never does anything by halves- he'd rather go all the way. This wasn't a problem when he was chasing after Skyborne, but when Sky kind of took herself out of the picture, there was only Pitch and Lark left.

Really, I should have known it was coming.

Lark loves Pitch, really, but she's already lost so many people she's loved that it's become old stuff for her. If Pitch dies, she'll mourn for him (and hard), but then she will simply pick up what's left and get on with her life. But then I started thinking.... what if the opposite happens?

Lark is Pitch's first love. Oh, he's had a mate before (long story that I have no intention of writing, sorry), but that relationship didn't have much to do with love. With Lark, though, every now and then he will surprise me with how deep his feelings really are. She is his mate, his partner, and his love. He gives her everything he's got.

More simply, he's not going by halves.

So if anything ever happened to Lark, I really wasn't sure what he'd do. Go crazy? Go feral? Or maybe just deal with it and move on, like Lark herself would do. I apparently was in a morbid mood today (let's kill off one of my main characters and see what the other one does, muahaha- kidding), and I did eventually finish the whole story.

Which was fairly awesome, because I've been in such a slump lately. >_<

So what would Pitch do if Lark died? Read on and find out.

***Disclaimer***

I AM NOT KILLING OFF ANY OF MY TOONS.

So don't worry about that. This is strictly a "what-if".

That being said, I will warn you that I had to make myself stop thinking about it a few times, because I was about ready to break down bawling in the middle of the aisle at work. You might want to grab a kleenex.
__________________

It was a beautiful day. The air was rain-washed and clean, the worst of the storm having passed. A few threatening-looking clouds still hung in the sky, but above them the sky was clear and blue. Pitch circled around Lark's gryphon, then did a few flips. He followed them up with an attempt at a backwards flip, but wound up having to catch himself after nearly falling out of the air. Lark laughed at him from her gryphon's saddle, and he laughed with her, unable to be angry or upset on such a perfect day.

The wind picked up, scudding a few of the clouds across the sky. Lark's grin dropped. "Maybe we should head back," she said doubtfully. Pitch did a bird-shrug. "Race you," he offered, then took off, his wings sweeping him along furiously. He barely heard her indignant "Hey!" as she sent her mount after him. Grinning to himself, he looked back over his shoulder.

The lightning came out of nowhere, the accompanying thunder crashing around them. For one brief, horrible instant Lark and her mount were lit up like a Winter Veil tree. Then, as Pitch watched, frozen with shock, they plummeted out of the sky. One of Lark's hands lifted as she fell, as if she were reaching for him. Her expression had no fear or pain, only a terrible surprise. Pitch abruptly found both his voice and his will to move. "No! LARK!!" he screamed, then folded his wings and dove after them.

It took him a couple minutes to find where they landed. Finally he spotted the gold-and-white mound of blowing feathers and fur and came winging over to the fallen gryphon. Lark lay near her mount. Pitch unshifted a few feet short of the ground and fell, scrambling to her side once he hit the ground. She lay motionless, the surprised expression still frozen on her face. "Lark," he whispered in disbelief, gently touching her shoulder. Then, as the full realization of what had happened dawned on him, he grabbed her and shook her, hard. "Lark, no!" There was no response. Feeling like the world had suddenly decided to crush him like a bug, Pitch gently cradled her head in both hands, then bent over her body and began sobbing.

Hours later, dry as the desert and worn as an old rag, he changed to cat and curled himself around her. As night fell and the rain started again, gentler this time, his mind mercifully fled down into darkness.

* * * * * *

She came to him in the darkness, smiling, but with a touch of sadness. He couldn't think of why she should be sad. Before he could say a word, she was kneeling at his side. "I'm so sorry, Pitch," she said softly. "I was so sure you would be the first one taken. I never wanted to leave you alone."

He reached up to touch her face. "Alone?" he asked, slightly confused. Some part of his mind was trying to tell him that this was all wrong, that she wasn't really here, but he refused to listen. "But-"

"Pitch," she interrupted gently. "I want you to promise me something, babe." She waited for his nod before continuing. "Promise me you'll go on. Don't let yourself pine away just because of me."

He blinked at her. "Lark, I-"

She interrupted him again, this time with a finger on his lips. "We're here, and we're alone," she said softly. "Let's enjoy this night together, hey?" She kissed him then, and he let himself forget everything else. There was only her.

* * * * * *

Waking was a cruelty beyond imagining.

Pitch sat and stared at his dead mate, the morning breeze ruffling his muddy fur. His mind and body felt numb. He couldn't make himself think beyond each particular moment. He didn't want to live without her.

Finally he stood and began walking. After a few dozen steps the walk turned into a run. He didn't look back.

* * * * * *

Alanon knelt next to Lark's body, closing her eyes as he offered a brief prayer to Elune. He scanned the ground, finally spotting the tracks of a large cat heading off into the distance. He sighed, suddenly feeling every one of his ten-thousand-something years.

The air shimmered in front of him, and suddenly Komah was standing there. Alanon blinked in surprise. The spirit-cat was several times larger now, his eyes and markings glowing fiercely. The druid suddenly understood what was happening and bowed his head to the loa-creature.

He heard a faint chuckle in his mind. None of that, please. Alanon raised his head to look the cat in the eyes. "So this is it, then," he stated, rather than asked.

Komah nodded. She was good to me, and I'll remember her always, but my mate's debt is paid and my time with her is now over, he said simply.

Alanon quirked an eyebrow. "That's it? No grief, no tears?"

The cat gave him a look of mild reproach. I am not a person. We don't do things the same as you. I will mourn her in my own way. Do not think to judge me, druid.

Alanon bowed his head again in apology. Then he looked up, a new thought crossing his mind. "And Pitch? Do you know where he's gone?"

The loa blinked at him slowly. Finally, He said he was going home. With that, Komah turned away from the druid and faded away.

Alanon sat where he was for a little longer. Then he levered himself to his feet and changed to a bird, heading back towards Stormwind. The rest needed to hear what had happened before he set off after Pitch.

* * * * * *

His sisters and Windstar took the news about how he had expected. Shaurria, of course, was the hardest hit. She dissolved into sniffles, sitting back a little away from the group. Loren was no better. The young druid simply sat in shock, eyes wide but unseeing. Windstar and Jahira sat on either side of him, trying to provide reassurance.

Kel was the first to speak. "Now what do we do?" she asked her brother.

Alanon sighed. "I have to go after him, there's no question of that. But I have to go alone." He looked at the others firmly. "We have no idea what he's feeling like right now, and I want to take no chances."

The others agreed, Kel grudgingly, and he turned to go. He hadn't gone far when he became aware of Shaur dogging his heels. He looked at her sternly and opened his mouth, but she gave him a look of mute appeal, and what he had intended to say died in his throat. He turned and went on, permitting her to follow.

* * * * * *

Ashenvale was much changed from its "glory days," as the humans liked to call it, but it was still home. Alanon kept his hope buried deep as they approached the weathered house. Pitch may have moved on by now, or he could be in no shape for them to be safe around him, but he was Alanon's brother. He had to try to do something.

There was no sign of the druid around the house, and Alanon felt his heart sinking when he finally spotted a dark shape at the edge of the clearing. Pitch was sitting still and silent, his tail curled around his feet, looking out into the trees. Shaur gave a wordless cry and launched herself at him before Alanon could stop her, but all Pitch did was turn to nuzzle her as she threw her arms around him. Alanon approached more slowly.

"Shaur," he said quietly. "I know how you feel, but I need to have a word with him, okay? In private." The little druid nodded as she wiped her face, then turned cat and trotted back to the house. Alanon sat down next to Pitch.

Pitch spoke up softly before Alanon could say a word. "I see her in my dreams. I can still feel her next to me." He turned to look at him briefly before returning his attention to the forest. "How do you deal with it?"

Alanon was glad that he still spoke clearly, and he at least sounded sane. He answered slowly. "You remember the good parts. The bad parts will come as well, but they will stop eventually. And then... the good parts won't hurt as much, and you'll know you're on the way to healing."

Pitch took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do me a favor, brother," he said softly. "Take care of Loren for me. And don't come looking for me, or let anyone else try. If I'm able, I will come find you."

Alanon didn't like the sound of what he was saying. "If you're able? Pitch..."

Pitch turned to look at him again, and Alanon felt his heart fall at the sight. Pitch's eyes were empty of everything but pain, balancing barely on this side of madness. Then Alanon saw something else, and his blood turned cold. Something else looked at him through Pitch's eyes, something feral and wild. He realized that Pitch had released the cat.

"Pitch, no," he whispered. "Don't do this."

Whatever sanity was left in Pitch's eyes was slipping away, even as he watched. "I don't really care, Alanon," he replied. "I don't want to live anymore, not without her. Maybe with time that will change, but for now this is the only way."

"Pitch, please," Alanon said desperately. "You know what they'll do if they-"

Pitch stood up abruptly, cutting off the rest of the sentence. "Goodbye, Alanon," he said. "Gods willing, I will see you again someday." He started trotting, heading into the deep woods.

Alanon watched him go. "Goodbye, little brother," he whispered, although he was no longer sure if it was his brother he was speaking to. "Elune guide your path." He felt Shaurria come up to stand beside him, and they both watched the big black cat as he disappeared into the trees.

Shaurria broke the silence. "Should we go after him?"

Alanon was silent for a long minute. Finally he shook his head. "We can't help him, little one," he told her. "He needs to do this himself." He put one arm around her and started guiding her back to the house. "Come, let's go home."

* * * * * *

The cat was free- really, truly free- for the first time in its existence. It hunted when it was hungry, slept or wandered when it was not. It guarded the territory it had staked out, driving out the rival predators it found. Sometimes, rarely, it remembered the elf it had once been. But the elf had been hurt badly, and had gone into hiding to wait for healing. He rarely bothered the cat, so it was able to do as it wished.

Everything was not perfect, of course. On occasion invaders came to the cat's realm, sometimes stopping to hunt and sometimes simply passing straight through. Not animals, though- people. The cat would watch them, angry at the intrusion. It wanted to attack them, to drive them off or kill them, but something held it back each time, so it only watched until they left.

And sometimes the cat had dreams of another elf, a female with a pretty face and laughing eyes. But the dreams were... painful, so the cat shied away from them.

Someday, maybe, the dreams wouldn't hurt so much, and then things would change. The elf might return, and then they would go back. But such things were beyond the cat's comprehension, so overall, it was fairly happy. It hunted, and slept, and wandered, throughout the Ashenvale forest.

_______________

For anyone wondering, Loren is Pitch and Lark's son. Yes, I know she's supposed to be barren, but there is actually some RP starting soon (I hope) that may change that. So since this would be in the unspecified future anyway, I figured that it would have worked. Hence Loren.

And naturally he would be a druid. His father and half his aunts/uncles are all druids, so why not?

Rheugan: Homecoming

I am slowly, slooowly starting to figure out some of the stuff that's still bothering Rheugan. I'm kinda hoping this might open some doors and help him get some of that out of his system, though he's doing his best to teach me to not expect anything from him, heh.

Rheugan finally gets to go back home, only to find that perhaps it's not quite what he was expecting. Enjoy!
___________________

The pair of crows sitting on the outcrop took flight in a clatter of wings, shrieking their displeasure, as the two stormcrows came in to land, Pitch keeping a careful watch on his protege. Rheugan looked worn from the long flight, but he was far from exhaustion; Pitch was pleased that he was holding out so well.

They caught their breath as they surveyed the countryside below, Pitch paying special attention to the lay of the land. A good scout made himself familiar with the ground he would be covering, and he had planned this trip with more in mind than simply easing Rheugan's peace of mind.

Finally Rheugan unshifted long enough to point toward a dark blot in the distance, saying as he did, "Tempest Reach, and the Blackwald." Pitch nodded, and the two birds took off again.

The Blackwald looked foreboding as they flapped down through a break in the branches, unshifting as they hit the ground. Pitch stood where he had landed, looking around warily, but Rheugan took a few steps deeper into the woods. He stopped and stood motionless, though Pitch could see a range of emotions warring across his face. Fear, longing, pain... Finally he shuddered slightly, then turned and gave his mentor a slight, shaky grin. "It never quite goes away, does it?" he asked. Pitch felt a sudden surge of sympathy for the young man. "No, it doesn't," he replied as he stepped over and put a hand on Rheugan's shoulder. "But you learn to control it. It will get easier, believe me."

Rheugan turned back to the woods without answering. After several minutes, when Pitch was about to suggest they find a safe place for the night, he spoke again. "We lived here, to start with," he said softly. "But hunting grew slim, and the pack leader took us south." Pitch felt a brief shock as he realized Rheugan was speaking of his time as a feral, but he kept quiet, listening. "I.. I didn't like it. There were so many people... But it made our 'hunting' easier, so the leader kept us there. Then the hunters came.

"I wanted to run, but I wouldn't leave the pack. Finally I challenged him." His hand came up to touch the remains of his left ear. "I lost. A few days later they came for us. The leader was killed, several others. I didn't fight back, which is probably why they didn't kill me too. They drove me into a cage, along with a few others. The rest is a blur... until I came back to myself, in Duskhaven."

He fell silent. Pitch waited patiently, in case he had anything else to say, but at last he gently touched Rheugan's arm. "We need a safe place for the night," he said softly, and Rheugan nodded, seeming to pull himself back together. "Taldoren is right over there," he said, pointing, then he led Pitch through the trees. Pitch could feel the thrum of magic before the great tree even came into view; it felt like druid magic, but not anything he had felt before. He glanced at Rheugan, but the other druid didn't seem bothered- if anything he looked calmer, more relaxed.

Rheugan ducked between the roots into the cave underneath the tree, Pitch following more hesitantly. The human immediately assumed his cat form and started sniffing around until he found a spot to his liking, where he scratched at the dirt, then flopped down. Pitch looked around uncertainly. "Are you sure we'll be safe in here?" Rheugan favored him with a sardonic look, then curled into a tight ball and stuck his nose under a paw. Pitch shrugged to himself, then changed to his cat form and curled up beside him. His sleep was uneasy, but they were undisturbed the entire night.

* * * * * *

Pitch woke the next morning to find Rheugan gone. He scrambled out from under the tree, then relaxed as he found his student just outside. Rheugan had taken his worgen form and was poking around cautiously, sniffing the air. He fixed Pitch with one bright green eye as the Kal'dorei appeared. "We need to get moving," he said gruffly. A low howl in the not-so-far distance punctuated his words, and Pitch made no objections. The two druids took to the air again without another word.

Pitch found himself in the unfamiliar position of being completely dependent on Rheugan to lead them where they had to go. He paid close attention to the landmarks below, fixing them in his memory, as they flew down to Stormglen Village, then back north to the city itself. Rheugan paused at the city's edge, Pitch waiting patiently while he studied the streets and buildings. Finally he gave himself a little shake, then flapped onward.

He led Pitch to what looked like a square, an old Forsaken standard still standing in the middle. Rheugan landed in the street, sparing a contemptuous look for the flag, then unshifted. Pitch did likewise, then moved to stand at his shoulder, staying close but still giving the younger man space if he needed it.

Rheugan glanced at him briefly, then turned back to the flag. "This is where Prince Liam fell," he said softly. Pitch blinked, then took a closer look around, taking in the signs of battle. Rheugan simply stood still, staring at the standard. "He was one of the few that accepted us right from the beginning," he continued. "He treated us as friends, not monsters. Even the ones..." He trailed off without finishing, then glanced at Pitch again. "This way," he said, then headed deeper into the city.

They crossed over into a section of town that appeared to be mostly housing, with a few shops scattered throughout. There were signs of fighting even here, though it was apparent that it had happened a long time ago.

Rheugan stopped suddenly, and Pitch nearly ran into him. The younger druid was staring at one of the houses, an unreadable look on his face. "This was my home," he said before Pitch could ask, his voice so quiet it could hardly be heard. Pitch blinked, then looked up at the building. It looked virtually the same as the neighboring buildings, made of stone but clearly belonging to people of some wealth. The door was broken in, the dark entryway yawning in front of them. Rheugan stared into it as if his life depended on it.

Pitch looked at the open doorway, then at Rheugan. Finally he asked, "Well, why don't you go in and have a look?" Rheugan started, as if it was something he wouldn't have dreamed of doing, then took a slow step closer to the door. A look of naked longing came over his face. One hand came up toward the doorframe; Pitch noticed it was shaking. It stopped before touching the wood frame, and Rheugan stood stone-still for a long minute.

Finally he lowered his hand, stepping away from the doorway. "It's not my home any longer," he said, glancing at Pitch almost as if he had done something wrong. His eyes looked haunted.

Pitch took a step closer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder and trying not to notice when the young man flinched slightly. "It's all right, Rheugan," he murmured. A quick glance at the sky showed that the sun, barely visible through the ever-present overcast, was almost at noon. He looked back at Rheugan. "I think we've seen enough here, huh? Ready to head home?"

Rheugan rubbed at his eyes, which Pitch dutifully pretended not to notice, then he nodded. "Aye," he said bleakly. "Home."

Plans

Oh hey, have some RP. Not finished yet, but the last part is looking to be a doozy, so I figured I'd post it separate. Enjoy!
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Rheugan launched himself clumsily into the air, flapping his wings hard to gain altitude. His landing was much smoother, as he came in to light on the tree branch next to Pitch. His mentor beamed at him. "That was much better. Just need to work on your takeoffs now." Rheugan just nodded- speaking as a bird was another thing he needed work on.

Pitch watched him as the small human left his bird shape and straddled the branch, peering fearlessly at the goings-on below them. "So," he said casually, and Rheugan looked up at him. "I thought we might make that trip back to Gilneas tomorrow. I mean, it'll be a lot safer now you can fly, and you could use the endurance training." Rheugan cocked his head. "You really th- ahh, if you think I can do it," he said, and Pitch grinned. "Sure you can. We'll go slow if we have to. But we'll be flying the whole way," he warned. "No gryphons, no shortcuts. So make sure you get plenty of rest tonight." Rheugan nodded, then looked down below them again, pensively.

Pitch eyed him. "You could be happier about it," he stated. "Is something wrong?"

The younger druid shrugged, then glanced up at him briefly. "If we're going.." he said slowly. "That means that Fells doesn't want me along on whatever that trip is she's planning, does she?" Pitch looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, no," he answered honestly. "But it's not because she thinks you'd be a bother."

"It's because I'm Gilnean, isn't it?" Rheugan asked softly. "Whatever she wants to do there, I gathered it isn't honest, and she thinks I'll object."

"I don't know," Pitch replied, then trailed off as he eyed his student curiously. "Would you?" he asked. Rheugan shrugged. "I don't know what she's after, so how would I know, eh? But she's made her choice, so what does it matter now?"

Pitch sighed as he looked away. Rheugan's soft voice brought him back, however. "Are you going?" The Night elf eyed the human for a long moment. "Yes," he said finally. "She said she needs a scout, and I am good at it, bragging or no." Rheugan wouldn't meet his eyes. "Do you... know what she's going after?" he asked hesitantly.

Pitch blinked, thinking fast. "No, she hasn't told me yet," he answered, wincing inwardly at the lie. "I imagine she will once we're all there. Look," he said as he sat up straighter on the branch. "I'll tell you all about it once we're back, all right? Bet it'll be quite the story." Rheugan nodded, rather listlessly, and Pitch looked at him sharply. "Are you okay, Rheu?" he asked, using the nickname the younger druid had tacitly deemed acceptable. The human shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, does it? It's decided."

Pitch frowned, but didn't press it. "Well, it's getting late," he said instead. "I'm going to turn in. You do the same soon, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, the Kal'dorei rolled right off the branch in a backwards somersault, changing to a bird and catching himself before he splattered on the ground. Rheugan watched in bemusement as his mentor flapped off toward the Mage District, then opted to shift to his bird form before hopping off himself.

* * * * * *

"I need a favor." Lark rolled over to look at him, her drowsiness vanishing as she raised an eyebrow. "Fells has a job going on in Gilneas, and I'm going as a scout," Pitch told her. "I don't know how long it'll take, though, and while I'm gone Rheugan will be on his own."

Lark nodded. "So you want me to keep an eye on him?" "If you could," he replied. "Shaurria was going to stay with him as much as possible, but my brother is heading back to Hyjal soon and I don't know if he's taking her or not." Lark frowned, deep in thought. "I can do better than that, I think," she said finally. "I was going to go over the grounds for a maintenance check soon, and I could use a cat or two to help."

Pitch brightened. "Oh that'd be perfect," he said. She grinned at him. "When?" she asked, and it was Pitch's turn to think. "Fells said a week and a half, and that was a couple days ago," he answered. "All right then," Lark told him. "Consider it taken care of." He beamed, letting out a huge sigh of relief. "Thanks. Whatever you'd like as repayment, just let me know."

Lark gave him a sly look, then grinned as she reached over and tugged at one ear. "Oh, I can think of a few things."

Rheugan: Rage

(Yes, Rheugan gets his name in the title even though it's mostly from Pitch's point of view. >.>)

I've been feeling like Rheugan has stalled lately. Between my computer messing up, which means I'm stuck on the laptop while my desktop gets fixed (boo!), and many of Rheugan's in-game friends just being busy doing other stuff, he's been kinda hanging out by himself a lot recently. In fact, I've been wracking my brain lately just trying to think of something to shake him up.

Turns out I didn't need to. He got shaken up plenty just last night, during our weekly RP night. I'll let Rheugan tell all the pertinent details.

Enjoy!

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Rheugan was at the lake shore near the Earthshrine when Pitch found him. He was human, sitting quietly and watching the Shrine begin to buzz as the morning's activities started. Everything seemed to be normal- except the faint scent of blood that Pitch's sensitive cat-nose picked up as he approached.

Rheugan was aware of him, he knew, although the human didn't move or acknowledge him in any way. Pitch stood looking at him, then shifted out of his cat form and sat down beside him. "Let me see," he said gently, keeping his tone perfectly neutral.

Rheugan held out a hand, and Pitch suppressed a wince. His palm was practically shredded, some of the lacerations quite deep. Three of his knuckles were skinned, and one nail was broken off past the quick. Bits and pieces of bark were stuck in some of the wounds. Pitch pulled his eyes off Rheugan's hand and looked around, quickly spotting the offending tree. It looked like one of his sister Kel's devilsaurs had been chewing it.

Rheugan still sat motionless, his eyes fixed on some spot just past the water's edge. Pitch didn't say a word, he simply took the human's hand in his and reached for the earth-energy beneath where he sat. As he did, he heard Rheugan say quietly, "I couldn't heal it myself." Pitch didn't answer, all his focus going into his work. He had a hard enough time healing himself, and for whatever reason healing others was even more difficult. There was nothing he could say, anyway- Rheugan was much more adept at magic than he was, and the only reason he wouldn't have been able to do it himself was because he was lost in one of his worgen rages. Pitch knew better than to scold or to offer any sympathy- the younger druid didn't need either.

He pushed the healing energy he had gathered into the injured hand, watching in satisfaction as it mended. Rheugan wordlessly offered the other hand, which was in similar shape, and Pitch repeated the process. He didn't even want to think about how much pain Rheugan had been in, or for how long. "Dare I ask what the tree did?" he asked jokingly as he finished. Rheugan said nothing, still sitting motionless and staring into the water.

When it was apparent that he wasn't going to respond, Pitch leaned forward until he could see the other's face. The young man's expression was blank, his eyes distant, as if he was in some other world. "Rheugan?" He gave an almost imperceptible start, his eyes cutting over to the Night elf. Pitch kept up the gentle, neutral tone. "Tell me what happened?"

Rheugan stared blankly at him for a few more seconds, then he blinked, finally seeming to register the Night elf's presence. "The fellow your people keep talking about, Tiran Shard, is planning another attack on the Horde," he said quietly. Pitch blinked, then gave a small motion for him to go on. "He thinks he can cut their supply trains if he can blow up part of a road." Pitch's eyebrow went up, then he frowned. "I imagine he has a road already picked out?" Rheugan nodded. "The one between Silverpine... and Gilneas."

Pitch blinked again. "Oh no," he said. "Yes," Rheugan countered. "But that's not all of it. He plans to enlist some help while he does it." Pitch's expression suggested that he didn't really want to hear the rest. Rheugan kept on anyway. "He wants to ally with the Gilneas Liberation Front."

Pitch stared at him, the wheels in his head clearly turning and leading him to the right conclusions. "And you know how he works, don't you," he stated, and Rheugan nodded again, his voice taking on the first hint of emotion he had shown yet- anger. "He'll use them as battle fodder, won't he? He'll destroy what's left of my people."

Pitch covered his face with one hand. "Do you know how soon?" he asked. "Is there any time to try and stop him?" Rheugan shrugged, returning to the listless state he had briefly left. "I don't know," he said. Pitch dropped his hand, regarding the other druid with sympathy. "I'm sorry, Rheugan," he said softly.

Rheugan didn't answer for several minutes. "I want to go with them," he finally said quietly, just above a whisper. "I want to fight with them." Pitch stared. "You'd just die with them," he began. Rheugan's head snapped over to glare at his mentor. "Do you think I care?" he asked sharply. "At least I'd be doing something besides sit around here all day!" Pitch jumped slightly at his tone, staring at him in surprise. "Rheugan..." he started to say, but the human cut him off.

"You keep saying that I just need to get better, but I'm not getting any better am I? I'm stuck here doing nothing useful- just taking up space and time, and you're stuck here too, because you have to watch over me! I want to bloody DO something!" His hand curled into a fist, and he slammed it into the ground as he finished. Pitch winced, even though he knew it was now healed. He had never seen the normally quiet, reserved druid this upset.

Rheugan seemed to realize how far he'd gone, because he froze, staring down at his fist on the ground. Slowly he uncurled his fingers, then placed his hand in his lap and looked out over the water again. Pitch stared at him as he realized he'd been making a huge mistake.

He'd thought to keep Rheugan safe in the city, where he could be near friends and also be watched over. He'd thought the hunting trips they'd gone on would be enough to keep his worgen side happy. Now he realized why Rheugan spent so much time at the lake. It wasn't just about being outside and close to nature; he'd wanted to be as close as possible to where the action was, which in his present scenario were the Earthshrine's portals.

He reached over and placed a hand on Rheugan's shoulder. The younger druid was so tense that he was almost vibrating, the muscles rock-hard. "I'm sorry," Pitch said quietly. "I should have seen it sooner. I'll talk with Alanon, and we'll see what we can do." Rheugan nodded listlessly. "Crowley would never agree to it, I'm sure of it," he said hoarsely, though he didn't sound convinced. It took Pitch a moment to remember what they had been talking about before Rheugan's outburst. "I don't know, you'd know him better than I," he replied. "Listen, I'm going to go ahead and find Alanon, okay? We'll get started sorting all this out." Rheugan didn't answer, but Pitch thought that he was starting to finally relax. Slightly, at least. "All right," Pitch said. "Just tell me you'll stay here, okay? Don't go off anywhere?" At Rheugan's nod, he stood up, then changed to a bird and flew off over the city.

Rheugan watched him go, then shifted to cat, seeking relief in the simplicity of the animal's thoughts. He lay half-curled at the water's edge, staring at nothing.

He wasn't surprised when the bird flapped down to land next to him. However, this bird was smaller and sleeker than Pitch's flight form, and he had just enough time to blink before the bird disappeared and Shaurria stood looking at him. "Y'-.. Pitch said yer not feeling s'well?' she asked him hesitantly. Rheugan's shoulders hitched in a cat-shrug, and she knelt, then sat down beside him. She reached over to touch his shaggy ruff, then before he could protest she had lifted his head and settled it in her lap. Immediately the cat inside him wanted to get free, to claw her off if necessary, but he held it in firmly and kept still. Her fingers began digging through his thick fur, rubbing and scratching, and he let them.

Shaurria began humming softly under her breath. Rheugan didn't recognize the melody, but he didn't care; it was soothing. He lay still, listening and letting her pet him. Finally he was able to let his thoughts go, and soon after he fell fast asleep.

Sometimes you don't need words

Rheugan: Pitch's Idea

Rheugan padded up as Pitch finished brushing down his saber. The Night elf gave the worgen a grin as he patted Ursoc's flank, letting the big cat know he was free now. Rheugan sat back and watched as the stormsaber sauntered off a few steps, then promptly flopped down and rolled in the grass, ruining all Pitch's work. Pitch stared at his mount in dismay, then suddenly frowned fiercely at him. "All right, you bugger," he muttered, just loud enough for Rheugan to hear.

Rheugan watched in consternation as Pitch changed to cat form, then jumped at the larger cat. Ursoc saw him coming and quickly rolled to his feet, just in time to meet Pitch's charge. The two cats wrestled, growling loudly, for several minutes as the worgen druid looked on. Finally Pitch broke free and dashed a little ways away, then turned and leaped at Ursoc again. The stormsaber dodged to the side, but Pitch caught at him just enough to pull the bigger cat over.

The two cats lay side-by-side, panting heavily. With the drama apparently over, Rheugan felt it was safe enough to come near. As he padded up, Ursoc lifted his head enough to look at him, then gave a welcoming rumble. Rheugan rumbled back as Pitch climbed to his feet, then the druids moved off into the nearby shade.

Rheugan watched Ursoc as the big saber moved off by himself. "You wrrestle with yourr mount," he said, not quite making it a question. Pitch was rather pleased to note that despite the ever-present growl, his words were spoken clearly and easily- it meant that he was himself at the moment, and not struggling with either wolf or cat.

"Yup," he answered the not-question. "Ursoc won't hurt me, and you might not notice it at first but he's not much bigger than me." Rheugan grunted, then glanced over at him and abruptly shifted to his human shape. After a moment, Pitch left his cat form as well. "Is everything all right?" he asked the younger druid. Rheugan nodded. "I'm well." Then he looked back over at Pitch. "My family had horses. A few dogs, too. Nothing that quite compares to your people's cats."

Pitch shrugged. "Kalimdor didn't have horses originally," he told his student. "We did get them eventually, but by then we'd been using nightsabers for... well, forever."

Rheugan chuckled, his eyes on Ursoc again. After a few moments of silence, he commented, "They seem like good companions, too. Not quite like a dog, of course, but with more personality than an average horse." Pitch made a non-committal noise in response, his own eyes fastened to his protege. He watched as Ursoc came back over to them and started nudging at Rheugan with his nose. The small human chuckled again as he obligingly started scratching at the saber's ears. Rheugan looked over, noticing his mentor's attention, and blinked. "Is something wrong?" he asked. Pitch blinked too, then shook his head. "No, nothing wrong," he replied. "Just had an idea." He offered nothing more, and after a moment Rheugan went back to petting the saber.

* * * * * *

Alanon was surprised when he saw Pitch swooping down at them. His brother landed lightly in front of Shaurria, shifting out of his flight form as he did. He hardly acknowledged the elder druid as he bent and began whispering quickly into her ear. Shaur blinked in surprise, then frowned slightly in thought, her forehead creasing slightly. "I guess... yea, go ahead," she said in reply to whatever he had said. Pitch gave her a grin and a brief hug, then turned the grin to Alanon and gave his older brother a nod. Without saying another word, he turned back to a bird and took off, heading back toward Nordrassil.

Alanon turned to the younger Kal'dorei. "Do I want to know what that was about?" he asked dryly. Shaur just shrugged. "Said he had an idea," she said, then brightened. "Could we go see Tortolla again?" Alanon chuckled as he waved her up into the air. Shifting to a bird himself, he followed his adopted daughter out over the scorched plain below.

* * * * * *

Rheugan followed Pitch, his expression confused. "Tell me again what we're doing here?" he asked, but Pitch just kept going. "You'll see shortly," he called back. Rheugan could only sigh and keep following.

He soon found his answer as they rounded the enormous tree that housed the main Cenarion enclave here in Darnassus. Rheugan felt a twinge of anxiety- it was near here where the events had taken place that had led to him becoming Pitch's student. Pitch didn't seem to notice as he led the younger druid toward the sabers' stabling area.

He stopped in front of one of the pens. Rheugan stepped up to his side. "Are we here?" Pitch nodded and waved into the pen, and Rheugan's eyes followed the gesture. He blinked in surprise.

A big gray saber sat in the back of the pen, with three cubs- already the size of large dogs- tumbling around her. She looked up at her visitors with ears pricked, a loud purr quickly starting up in her chest. Rheugan stared. Pitch fought to keep a grin from his face as he watched. Finally the human pulled his gaze away to look at Pitch. "Why are we here?" he asked curiously.

Pitch gently ushered him into the pen as he answered. "This is Dawn. She used to belong to Shaurria, but... well you can see what happened. I, uh, have to admit that Ursoc is the dad." He grinned sheepishly. "Anyway, that's when Shaur got Finnall, and she's developed a closer bond with him than she had with Dawn here. Thing is, her cubs are ready to be weaned and start their training, so now Dawn will need a new home." He rocked back on his heels a bit as he watched for Rheugan's response.

The other druid eyed him, eyebrow raised, then turned back to the cat. One of the cubs chose that moment to bumble into his legs, and he bent down to pet it. Dawn watched with a mother's careful scrutiny, then stood up and came over to the worgen. She gently bumped him with her head, as though demanding her share of the attention, and Rheugan chuckled softly as he obliged. Pitch nodded to himself in satisfaction.

When the two druids left Darnassus, it was on their sabers- Pitch on Ursoc, and Rheugan on Dawn.


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Heeeee.

Yep, I had gotten Rheugan a tabard as soon as he first got to Darnassus, and he's been questing mostly in Night elf lands besides. He just hit exalted and I got him his new mount right away. So no more running around on all fours, yay! (Unless he happens to want to, ya know. >.>)

I'm hoping that this will help him out ICly too, since he'll have someone to look after now. And this was fun to write, after all my recent Writer's-block-frustrations.

And now I need to hit the hay. Happy Hunting!

Independencies

I was browsing blogs the other day and rediscovered this gem from Too Many Annas. But why am I bringing it up? ... Because last night Rheugan totally threw me for a loop.

Little bit of backstory: Fells, one of Pitch's fellow Riders, has a bet going on with a newcomer named Zve. The bet? Zve, who is not exactly a high-class citizen(he is in fact barely above "street bum" status. I think >.>), has to get into the Silver Feather, a well-known "high class establishment." He has to do it on his own- aka no one he knows can just let him in- and he has to get his picture in the paper while he's there as proof. The stakes for the bet are pretty dang high, and Fells and Zve have nearly been at each other's throats a time or two about it(at least it seems that way from my characters' perspectives).

So last night, there was a party at the Blue Recluse. It was fairly dressy, so everyone came wearing their best clothes.

Zve was there. So was Fells.

When Zve went to leave, he discovered 2 things: Fells had left some time before him, and his hat (and I think his cloak and cane, but I'm not sure) was missing. He tracked Fells down at the Pig and Whistle, where Pitch and Rheugan had gone to get away from the crowds. They had a... talk. It was a fairly intense talk, as it seemed that Zve had been trying to get himself "let in" which was apparently against the terms of their bet. Fells had taken his hat, yes, and was going to hold it hostage(I think? Not real clear here.) as assurance of Zve's good behavior. Aka, he had to go along with the terms of the bet, no more trying to cheat. Fells being Fells, she was being smug about it, and Zve finally lost his temper and had to leave before he "hulked out", as his player put it.

(A side note? Both Fells and Zve's players have become friends already and are in no way fighting with each other- in fact the whole scenario has been an awesome source of amusement for everyone.)

Rheugan left the Pig shortly after Zve did. I knew that something was bothering him, but I wasn't totally sure what. I think it was at least partly Fells' attitude toward Zve, who is actually a worgen and not a human. Rheugan (and Pitch!) being a cat, he can tell the difference, and right after Zve left Fells admitted she knew he was a worgen but swore that he "was no danger." Rheugan knows very well what living with the worgen curse is like, and the way Fells treated the whole thing bothered him a lot.

So, Rheugan left. Pitch knew that something was bothering him, so he went out after him to make sure he was okay. The following conversation ensued:

Pitchblàck says: All right?
Rheugan says: I'm not sure of much of anything right now
Pitchblàck blinks at Rheugan.
Pitchblàck says: Was it Fells?
Rheugan says: Partly
Rheugan says: I don't know if she is prejudiced or simply ignorant
Rheugan says: Or if it is something else that I can't see
Pitchblàck says: She's been nice to you, right? She hasn't said anything?
Rheugan says: No, but then I don't know her well
Pitchblàck says: Do you want to go back in?
Rheugan says: I don't know
Rheugan says: I thought about going after Bosch, but I'm not good at following a trail
Pitchblàck says: Would that have been a good idea?
Rheugan chuckles.
Rheugan says: He can't hurt me, Pitch
Rheugan says: Don't let me keep you if you want to go back in
Pitchblàck says: You're my student. I don't like leaving you alone like this
Rheugan says: I won't harm anyone, I promise
Pitchblàck says: It's not that
Pitchblàck lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

This was when I realized that I did not know what was going through Rheugan's head. This has never happened before with any of my other toons, and frankly it floored me. It was like he simply kicked me out of his head and shut the door. I'm still boggled by it.

This is both awesome and scary. Awesome, because I've never had a character come alive like that before, and the possibilities are pretty amazing. Scary, because I don't know what will happen with him now. I know that right now he's on edge, and anything could push him over. Whether it pushes him to the "good" side or the "bad" side remains to be seen. I could even see him giving up, and going out to the wild places left in Ashenvale, or some similar place, and letting the beast go for good.

This is bothering Pitch as well, because he doesn't want to fail poor Rheugan. Pitch is trying his hardest, but he's realized he has no idea what the worgen curse is like, and that curse added to the wild animal trapped in Rheugan's head is simply more fuel for the fire. On top of that, he's now afraid that his new "pack", the Riders (one or two in particular at least) may not like Rheugan very much.

The good news is that this set off some especially awesome RP with Kyraine, a human-turned-worgen that Pitch was already friends with, who has promised to talk to Rheugan herself. I really can't wait to see what will come from that. She also explained a lot of what the curse is like to Pitch, who now has a better understanding of what his new friend is going through.

So I think that sums up pretty much everything. I'll be giving Rheugan some extra attention, I think, because I want to see where exactly this all goes. I'm hoping my poor kitty-cat can come to terms with things, settle down, and become "real people" again. And as another side note? I've been trying to write out Rheugan's backstory, but it's being near impossible, and I'm thinking now that it's because he doesn't want me in his head. Will I ever get it written? Only Rheugan can tell me that.