Elwynn Forest, Midday
“I’m tellin’ ya, ya ain’t gettin’ me anywhere near ‘em. S’all I’m saying - they creep me out.” Barris huffed, plodding along with his hand on the hilt of his blade. A cagey man of brown hair and youthful features hidden behind a dirty brown bandana, Barris was hardly what one would consider a hardened criminal. Still, he commanded a sort of pity from those around him - he tried so very hard to fit, you see. It was for this reason he had anyone who’d stick by him at all, he was sure - but he was thankful, nonetheless.
“Well, ye’d do well ta get over it, ya ninny. Yer gonna see a lotta them in the future.” snapped Conroy, a hand rubbing his bald head in frustration. His brow scrunched up when he looked to Barris, the lines of age on his forehead deepening, “Oh, c’mon - Dun get all quiv’rin’. S’just a body. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ to ya.”
“It’s just, I don’t like hanging ‘round ‘em, that’s all. Really. S’just... The look on their faces.” Barris shuddered at the image of a cold body staring him down, “I don’t like it.” He shrugged, doing his best to steady his shaking - or at least hide it - as the two trudged along in relative silence for a few minutes. Birds twittered in the trees, meanwhile, as the sun shone through the canopy. Leaves and branches crunched and cracked underneath their boots as the silence drew on.
“You ever even hold a blade, boy?” Conroy questioned carefully.
“Since I was young!”
“Dun lie t’me.”
An audible pause stretches on for a minute too long. Barris spent most of it fishing for how best to say he’d failed to learn even the most basic of things with a sword.
“... Alright... So I didn’t! What’s it matter?”
“Well, yer greener’n an orc’s shit, fer one! Whaddya doin’, joinin’ up wit’ us if ya dun know how t’hold a damn sword, ya wee child?”
“I’m... I’m not a damn child! Okay? I’m a grown man.” Barris stopped in his tracks, rubbing his forehead and looking to the ground. He wasn’t sure why there’d been so much poke-poke-poking at his story. He didn’t want to get into it and he'd made that clear.
“Arright, personal. I understand.” Conroy hesitated before putting a hand on Barris’ shoulder, “Let’s just... Get back to th’boys, yeah? I can teach ya to swing a bla -” A flash of black cut Conroy short and knocked Barris off his feet, spinning to the ground. Before he could get himself righted, a warm splash smacked him in the face and the sound of screaming was muffled quickly by gurgles.
Play dead. Just lay there, don’t look, don’t look. Play dead.
He lay there, his entire body shaking uncontrollably out of pure fear. Despite his better judgment, the boy looked - only to see Conroy’s mangled corpse, covered in blood, staring at him while a massive black wolf ripped him apart. He shrieked in terror - the wolf’s head snapping to look to him, growling. It lept from Conroy onto Barris, its claws digging deep into his sides. Barris clamped his teeth together hard, stifling a cry of pain.
The beast clawed at him - over and over and over - the pain was unbearable at first, but each new rip and tear started to dull the last. Claws dug into his chest, tore at his neck and shoulders. Teeth sunk into his cheek, ripping the flesh apart like tissue. It was nothing more than a red blur - each pain more excruciating than the last, only to be deafened by the next. And then, it was over. The wolf snapped its head up and darted off. The boy’s head relaxed - the last thing he saw before blacking out, the vacant stare of a dead body.
The Next Day, Stormwind City Cemetery, Midday
“I dun summin’ pre’y bad, yesserday...” Branson sighed, his voice rumbling lowly to a necklace twisted around his claws. His face more somber than anything else, he lifted his head to look out to the lake. The calm water did nothing to quiet his mood, but it was a pleasant sight for a moment. His face scrunched up in thought, justification for it all, but he stopped with a shake of his head, turning his attention back to the necklace.
“I killed’a couple blokes, m’love.” he spat out, his eyes glazing over slightly, “Dey was nuffin’ good - couple banni’s, bu’...” he grunted before the rest growled out, “I’unno... Ain’ been ‘i’ so ‘ard by a deff since Blakely...” he paused audibly before continuing, “I ain’ growin’ soff, Rose... I jus’ - I din’ lose m’ead, I chose’a kill ‘em. Enjoyed i’ - watchin’ ‘em.” He looked around to make sure no-one was listening before he continued, “‘Unned’em, bu’ I weren’ no beas’. ‘Ad me ‘ead on righ’, I jus’... Drank summin’ wrong an’ fel’ all dis s’rengf an’ such an’ jus’ needed’a le’ i’ ou’... I dun killed ‘em an’m righ’ in’i’... Dey was scum, bu’... I weren’ no civ’lized bloke yesserday. I weren’ no credi’a’me kin’.”
He sighed, looking back up to the water, “I dun like makin’ me kin’ look worse, even if’m no’ sum beas’ wo’s’ead ain’ pu’ on righ’... Even if’m a civ’lized man in’na righ’ when I does i’... I dun like killin’a’ way - like a damn mongrel - bu’ I do i’, an’ i’ feels... Righ’... I dun like’is, m’love.”
His gaze lowered for a while, standing in perfect silence. The old worgen’s face softened for a moment while he stood there in thought. All of the things that brought him where he is - all of his pride and his strength and honor - all seemed like an obligation, just for a moment. A mask he had to put on - a part he had to play just to give his people a good name - just to keep fitting in. Just for a moment he felt soft again, like a new recruit. His mind wandered for a while, before returning to the necklace.
He bowed his head, breaking the silence, “I miss ye, Rose... Faif pr’serve ye.”
“I’m tellin’ ya, ya ain’t gettin’ me anywhere near ‘em. S’all I’m saying - they creep me out.” Barris huffed, plodding along with his hand on the hilt of his blade. A cagey man of brown hair and youthful features hidden behind a dirty brown bandana, Barris was hardly what one would consider a hardened criminal. Still, he commanded a sort of pity from those around him - he tried so very hard to fit, you see. It was for this reason he had anyone who’d stick by him at all, he was sure - but he was thankful, nonetheless.
“Well, ye’d do well ta get over it, ya ninny. Yer gonna see a lotta them in the future.” snapped Conroy, a hand rubbing his bald head in frustration. His brow scrunched up when he looked to Barris, the lines of age on his forehead deepening, “Oh, c’mon - Dun get all quiv’rin’. S’just a body. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ to ya.”
“It’s just, I don’t like hanging ‘round ‘em, that’s all. Really. S’just... The look on their faces.” Barris shuddered at the image of a cold body staring him down, “I don’t like it.” He shrugged, doing his best to steady his shaking - or at least hide it - as the two trudged along in relative silence for a few minutes. Birds twittered in the trees, meanwhile, as the sun shone through the canopy. Leaves and branches crunched and cracked underneath their boots as the silence drew on.
“You ever even hold a blade, boy?” Conroy questioned carefully.
“Since I was young!”
“Dun lie t’me.”
An audible pause stretches on for a minute too long. Barris spent most of it fishing for how best to say he’d failed to learn even the most basic of things with a sword.
“... Alright... So I didn’t! What’s it matter?”
“Well, yer greener’n an orc’s shit, fer one! Whaddya doin’, joinin’ up wit’ us if ya dun know how t’hold a damn sword, ya wee child?”
“I’m... I’m not a damn child! Okay? I’m a grown man.” Barris stopped in his tracks, rubbing his forehead and looking to the ground. He wasn’t sure why there’d been so much poke-poke-poking at his story. He didn’t want to get into it and he'd made that clear.
“Arright, personal. I understand.” Conroy hesitated before putting a hand on Barris’ shoulder, “Let’s just... Get back to th’boys, yeah? I can teach ya to swing a bla -” A flash of black cut Conroy short and knocked Barris off his feet, spinning to the ground. Before he could get himself righted, a warm splash smacked him in the face and the sound of screaming was muffled quickly by gurgles.
Play dead. Just lay there, don’t look, don’t look. Play dead.
He lay there, his entire body shaking uncontrollably out of pure fear. Despite his better judgment, the boy looked - only to see Conroy’s mangled corpse, covered in blood, staring at him while a massive black wolf ripped him apart. He shrieked in terror - the wolf’s head snapping to look to him, growling. It lept from Conroy onto Barris, its claws digging deep into his sides. Barris clamped his teeth together hard, stifling a cry of pain.
The beast clawed at him - over and over and over - the pain was unbearable at first, but each new rip and tear started to dull the last. Claws dug into his chest, tore at his neck and shoulders. Teeth sunk into his cheek, ripping the flesh apart like tissue. It was nothing more than a red blur - each pain more excruciating than the last, only to be deafened by the next. And then, it was over. The wolf snapped its head up and darted off. The boy’s head relaxed - the last thing he saw before blacking out, the vacant stare of a dead body.
The Next Day, Stormwind City Cemetery, Midday
“I dun summin’ pre’y bad, yesserday...” Branson sighed, his voice rumbling lowly to a necklace twisted around his claws. His face more somber than anything else, he lifted his head to look out to the lake. The calm water did nothing to quiet his mood, but it was a pleasant sight for a moment. His face scrunched up in thought, justification for it all, but he stopped with a shake of his head, turning his attention back to the necklace.
“I killed’a couple blokes, m’love.” he spat out, his eyes glazing over slightly, “Dey was nuffin’ good - couple banni’s, bu’...” he grunted before the rest growled out, “I’unno... Ain’ been ‘i’ so ‘ard by a deff since Blakely...” he paused audibly before continuing, “I ain’ growin’ soff, Rose... I jus’ - I din’ lose m’ead, I chose’a kill ‘em. Enjoyed i’ - watchin’ ‘em.” He looked around to make sure no-one was listening before he continued, “‘Unned’em, bu’ I weren’ no beas’. ‘Ad me ‘ead on righ’, I jus’... Drank summin’ wrong an’ fel’ all dis s’rengf an’ such an’ jus’ needed’a le’ i’ ou’... I dun killed ‘em an’m righ’ in’i’... Dey was scum, bu’... I weren’ no civ’lized bloke yesserday. I weren’ no credi’a’me kin’.”
He sighed, looking back up to the water, “I dun like makin’ me kin’ look worse, even if’m no’ sum beas’ wo’s’ead ain’ pu’ on righ’... Even if’m a civ’lized man in’na righ’ when I does i’... I dun like killin’a’ way - like a damn mongrel - bu’ I do i’, an’ i’ feels... Righ’... I dun like’is, m’love.”
His gaze lowered for a while, standing in perfect silence. The old worgen’s face softened for a moment while he stood there in thought. All of the things that brought him where he is - all of his pride and his strength and honor - all seemed like an obligation, just for a moment. A mask he had to put on - a part he had to play just to give his people a good name - just to keep fitting in. Just for a moment he felt soft again, like a new recruit. His mind wandered for a while, before returning to the necklace.
He bowed his head, breaking the silence, “I miss ye, Rose... Faif pr’serve ye.”
10,000 days in the fire is long enough,
You're going home...
You're going home...