I finally noticed on Twitter that Nethaera has been posting in the WoW forums looking for stories of different types. This week, she is looking for Druid stories! So I felt this to be a good opportunity to flex my writing muscles some (don’t want them to atrophy).
I don’t believe my Druid, Solaes, ever gets any story love, so here she is. Enjoy!
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Through huntress eyes, she spotted her prey. It did not even try and hide. Instead it flaunted itself as if it had nothing to fear in the dark forest.
Her prey was wrong.
The huntress pounced, her strong rear legs launching her quickly to her prey. Claws shredded silky fabric of magenta and violet and met with the soft skin beneath. Blood darkened the garments as they snapped wildly while the two forms fell through the air. Her prey’s body hit the ground with a muffled thump in the soft undergrowth.
Her prey could not even cry out, the air blasted from its lungs. It laying heaving for breath as the huntress growled deep within her throat. She tore her prey’s throat out before it could muster a scream.
Her taste for blood sated, the huntress dropped heavily to her rear haunches and looked upon the dead human in front of her. She absently licked the blood from her lips as her thoughts slowly became more clear, less animalistic.
Solaes shifted back to her Night Elf form. She continued to sit and stare blankly at the lifeless form of the Twilight Cultist. She wrapped her arms around her legs and squeezed them to her chest, still staring over the tops of her knees at the cooling corpse.
No longer did killing the heretics fill her with accomplishment. Now, it only added to the emptiness that consumed her.
The Twilight Cult had awakened Deathwing, and the Destroyer had caused the Cataclysm. When the world shattered, so had Solaes’ whole life. The destruction of Darkshore and Auberdine had taken her love and her child.
Solaes dropped her head into her hands. A tear squeezed past the lashes of one eye and fell down the curve of her cheek.
She had vowed to return it upon the Twilight Cult one hundred fold.
But no longer did even her need for vengeance fill the void in her soul. Instead, here she sat, more empty, more alone.
Only while lost in the bloodlust of the huntress did Solaes feel free of her pain. Afterward, she was left once more with the hole where her heart had once been.
Perhaps therein lay the answer.
Solaes ran her fingers absently through her silvery hair as she thought. She had heard stories of druids who lost themselves in the animals they took the forms of – most notoriously, the Druids of the Scythe.
It was a tempting thought.
But the panther had always been her prefered form – sleek, stealthy, deadly.
Solaes made a noise akin to a purr. She let herself slip back into the skin of the huntress – her teeth elongated, her hands and feet became large soft paws, fur covered her body, and a long tail began to twitch back and forth anxiously.
Her only focus became the smells traveling on the wind and the sounds echoing in her ears. And like a shadow at dusk, she melted away into the trees and fully gave herself to the instincts of the huntress.
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This story is based on worlds and characters in World of Warcraft.
Awaiting the Muse by Effy J. Roan AKA Effraeti is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at https://awaitingthemuse.wordpress.com/.