The sun was setting fast as the Grunts set about lighting the fires around Orgrimmar that had went out during the day, and making sure the braziers and bonfires had enough firewood to last them until the morning. The chatter and bustle of the day was starting to wind down as the busy city prepared for the night time.
Matron Mother Battlewail stood just outside of the threshold of the orphanage and watched the exchanging of the guards on duty by the massive gate that marked the entrace to the Valley of Honor and chuckled as she heard Tosamina cry out “Stop whining! Where is your brother and sister?” from inside as she tried to settle the children down and prepare them for bed; apparently, with little luck. Tosamina would make a fine Matron one day. Firm but gentle, with an eye for getting things done, she could use a little more patience, but that would come with time.
She let her gaze drift over the beautiful, red stones that the city-fortress was built upon, across the fishing pond where Lumak the fisherman was packing up his tackle, and to an odd couple that were sitting on the bank closest to the orphanage. She watched as two children, most likely the brother and sister that Tosamina was looking for, played with the strange couple and couldn’t help but smile. It was a game often played between the more fearless children of the orphanage and this one particular creature. The large, spiked lizard would lay down and close an eye, pretending to be napping, occasionally swishing it’s thick and powerful tail back and forth, and the small orcs, giggling the entire time in a most unstealthy manner, would creep up behind it in an attempt to grab the massive spike on the end of it’s tail. The beast would jump in feigned surprised and roll over, then with a flick of it’s tail, dump the children into the pond, emitting a harsh, rasping noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter. The dark haired orc that sat as it’s companion nearby would “help” them with small phrases such as “Hey, I think she’s asleep.” or “Come at her from this flank as not to wake her.” Which made the young orcs giggle all the more.
“Orgra! Sanshir! What do you think you’re doing?!” Tosamina appeared in the doorway.
“Oops, looks like she found us out! Come on then you two.” The seated orc rose and scooped up the two, sopping kids in his muscled arms and closed the space between the pond and the orphanage with cheetah like agility and grace, the protests of the two children ringing out in his ears. “Sorry ma’am, didn’t realize they were missing. Here ya go.”
“Didn’t realize they were missing, Fyrus? Really? What do you take me for, a fool?” Fyrus muttered something at which the children started giggling and Tosamina fixed him with an icy glare. Fyrus gave her a rogueish smile in return and promptly turned on his heel, looking back to his companion and finding her sprawled out amongst the bulrushes near the pond. He was about to call for her when a gentle hand touched his shoulder.
“Hello young one. It is good to see you again, though I know your time is short.” She smiled at him as he turned to meet her. She never really got over how piercingly red his eyes were. The blood fury was strong within this one.
“Greetings Matron Mother,” he bowed, “It is good to see you as well, the years have been as kind to you as ever.”
“I expect you’re leaving in the morning then?”
“Perceptive as always, Matron.”
“You still intend to find out then? What if you don’t like the answer?”
Fyrus’ eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth creased into a frown around the white tusks that adorned his bottom lip. “Yes. I do intend to go. Even if the answers are less than what I hope for.” Fyrus smiled weakly.
It was the Matron’s turn to frown, “What is it that you hope for? Certainly you can’t expect.. I mean after all this time.. The entire regiment was reported lost!”
“Yes, I know.” Fyrus flashed her another half-smile and turned on his heel, walking down the path towards the gate in the distance. “Come, Zan. We still haven’t even packed yet silly girl. I hope there are enough fish at the house to feed you.” The warp stalker rose and plodded up beside Fyrus, her sharp claws clacking against the stone path.
“Where is he going Matron?” Sanshir had reappeared at the door, her doll smushed tightly against her new and dry night gown.
Matron Mother Battlewail shook her head. “Chasing dreams..or let us hope dreams, for if not he is chasing nightmares.”
Sanshir looked puzzled at the Matron’s mysterious words, little creases permeating her tiny eyebrows. She suddenly snapped up straight and took a couple paces toward the figures retreating toward the gate. “Farewell Fyrus! Farewell Zanbatou! Be careful, but return soon!”
“Lok’tar Ogar!”
Upon hearing these words the orc child stood up straight and proud, hand thumping to her chest in mimic of the Hunter she idolized.
“Lok’tar Ogar!”
