Araatris: Rhoelyn hums softly to herself as she stitches the gash in the side of her dress, her attention fixed on the needle and thread.
Rhoelyn: Nysse sits on the bed, her own borrowed robe tucked beneath her legs. “These robes are comfortable, but we could have waited until Tian.”
Araatris: “I couldn’t imagine traveling the few days back in a torn, filthy gown. And if I’m to steal an hour for my clothing, why not wash yours as well?”
Rhoelyn: The huntress shakes her head with a grin and stretches out on the bed. “I think you were just getting tired of the smell,” Nysse teases.
Araatris: The priestess laughs. “My sister, though I adore you unconditionally, you are prone to smelling like your wolves if left to your own devices.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse turns and leans forward, protesting, “Hey! Wolves smell nice!” She pauses and frowns, “I mean… I think they do. I like how they smell.”
Araatris: Rhoe grins, finishes a stitch and snips the thread with her teeth before she pads over and kisses Nysse on the forehead. “I rest my case.”
Rhoelyn: The young night elf laughs. “I smell better than some of the missions we’ve been on. What do you think I should smell like then? Flowers?”
Araatris: “Flowers are nice. Yes.” The priestess heads to the door, picking up the bundle of dirty clothes. “And herbs. I’ll not be gone long. Korran?”
Rhoelyn: The pale wolf raises his head, then rises and pads over to her. He looks up expectantly. Nysse comments, “I don’t mind. I may take a nap.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn looks down the hall and back up. Her brow furrows. “If you wish to nap, perhaps you should keep Korran with you. I will ask Ming.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse shakes her head. “I’m a light sleeper, Rhoe.” She sits up and frowns. “Would you prefer if I joined you? I don’t have to rest right now.”
Araatris: “I want you to rest. You are still tired, and the trip will be long.” She turns her attention to the wolf. “Will you come or stay with Nysse?”
Rhoelyn: Korran swings his head to Nysse. After a brief moment, Nysse flops back on the bed and Korran brushes against Rhoe’s leg. “See you in a bit.”
Araatris: “Rest well, sister.” Korran waits in the hall while Rhoelyn closes the door behind her and then falls into step at her side, vigilant and wary.
Rhoelyn: She walks downs the hall and across the grounds to a steamy building. Warm and humid, she steps in and finds and tub of water and settles by it.
Araatris: Korran flicks his ears and growls low in his throat as she rolls up the sleeves on her cream-colored robe, and she looks up. “Good morning.”
Rhoelyn: Leothir looks nervously at Korran. “Good morning. He’s not going to bite me, is he? I was just going to offer to help.” He grins charmingly.
Araatris: Rhoelyn smiles at him before addressing her borrowed guardian. “He’s no threat, Korran. You needn’t worry.” She rests a hand on his furred shoulder.
Rhoelyn: The wolf glares huffing at the blood elf and laying down next to Rhoelyn. The priestess rubs his ears. “Thank you, Korran. It is safe, Leothir.”
Araatris: “Good doggy,” he says, nervous despite her reassurance. Rhoe giggles at Korran’s renewed glare. “I fear it’s not going to stay safe if you treat him like that.”
Rhoelyn: Leothir swallows. “He’s entirely independent from Nyssera?” He glances around. Rhoelyn giggles, “He’s her spirit wolf not a magic creation.”
Araatris: The mage rolls up his sleeves and pulls a stool over from another tub. “I’m really not sure what that means,” he prompts, watching her hands.
Rhoelyn: Rhoelyn hands him a shirt. “Korran was a wolf spirit from the Emerald Dream that found her as a child. Her connection allows him to be present.”
Araatris: The look she slants the wolf is warm. “Unlike a magic construct, he comes to Nysse because he loves her. He protects her by his own choice.”
Rhoelyn: The mage blinks and peers around her at Korran as he dunks the shirt. “Oh. I’m sorry, Korran. I didn’t realize.” The wolf heaves a long sigh.
Araatris: With one last grin for the two of them, the priestess settles in to the washing, quiet and thoughtful. Her motions are smooth and precise.
Rhoelyn: Leo scrubs at a particularly hard stain on the shirt with a frown. “Is she always this hard on her clothing? She might need a new shirt…”
Araatris: “She really is,” Rhoelyn glances askance at him, her lips twisting up. “Grass stains are a favorite, usually from playing with the wolves.”
Rhoelyn: He blinks and chuckles. “How many wolves does she have and are you sure she’s not one of them?” Leo holds up the shirt and eyes it critically.
Araatris: “Some days,” she laughs softly, “all that separates them is a tail and a fur coat. Though, I suppose I cannot even say that much for her mate.”
Rhoelyn: “He’s a druid as I recall. I can see why you’d say that. What about you? What do you do normally?” He hands Rhoe the shirt for inspection.
Araatris: As she looks over the stain, the priestess answers, “I am a cleric. I minister to the people of Nighthaven and care for Elune’s moonwells, there.”
Rhoelyn: The mage looks surprised, “You are quite the lady. Do you act as ambassador often?” Rhoelyn teases, “Do you think you may ask all the questions?”
Araatris: Leo chuckles and picks another piece of clothing off the pile. “No, I suppose not, pr- Rhoelyn. But I’d love an answer.” She grins. “Never before.”
Rhoelyn: “Never? It must have been a treat to see a new land like this.” The blood elf scrubs at a stubborn stain. “I take it for granted sometimes.”
Araatris: “I was very much enjoying the chance before… all this.” She sobers, making a vague gesture with a dripping hand. “You travel often, then?”
Rhoelyn: Grimacing, the blood elf agrees, “Yes, I’m rather good at portals, so I travel around doing odd jobs.” He sighs, “That sounds stupidly vague.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “Vague, perhaps. Never stupid.” She shrugs. “Do you not belong to an organization? A cause?”
Rhoelyn: Shaking his head, he grins, “That was more my brother, a follower of the Light. I was too reckless.” He blushes and raises a soapy hand to his hair.
Araatris: The little priestess grins, amused by the suds he unknowingly left behind. “Too reckless to be a paladin? The blood knights must be strict.”
Rhoelyn: “Too strict for me. I always preferred to make my own choices from what I saw. Orders leave little choice.” His lips press into a thin line.
Araatris: Drying her hands on a towel, Rhoe reaches up and brushes bubbles from his hair. “I suppose taking orders requires great faith in those giving them.”
Rhoelyn: Surprised, he reaches up and brushes his hand against hers. “I suppose I hadn’t found what I wanted to put my faith in besides myself yet.”
Araatris: The elf reclaims her hand with a blush darkening her cheeks. “Then your brother was lost.” She watches him. “You’ve put your faith in revenge?”
Rhoelyn: Leothir shakes his head and his shoulders slump as he looks away. “No, we can see what that got me. I guess I’m still looking for something.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn blinks at him, the washing momentarily forgotten. “Have you set aside your plan to assassinate the Horde Warchief, then?”
Rhoelyn: The blood elf sighs and lays his arms on the edge of the washing tub. “Perhaps I’m thinking the methods were harsh. He’s still dangerous, but…”
Araatris: When he hesitates, she watches him with luminous eyes, patient. He tilts his head toward her, drinking in the calm that shrouds her like still air.
Rhoelyn: “Rhoelyn, I want to find another way to overthrow Garrosh, but things are bad. I can’t go home. I can’t even visit his grave.” Leo closes his eyes.
Araatris: The sin’dorei sighs into the silence until he feels her touch against his hand, her skin warm and soft from the water. He looks at her, surprised.
Rhoelyn: He freezes at her sudden closeness as he opens his eyes. Leothir questions softly, “Rhoelyn? What are you…?” The priestess holds his gaze.
Araatris: “I know you hurt,” she says softly, gripping his hand, “All three of you wear your wounds like weapons. But you won’t find healing for (c)
Araatris: (c) yourselves or your Horde like this. Just as you saw, you cannot bring light through darkness, Leothir. You’ll only find more shadows.”
Rhoelyn: Leo’s eyes shimmer and he quickly breaks eye contact. “I can’t seem to convince them of that. We asked for help, princess. No one came.. “
Araatris: The priestess searches his expression. “There are times,” she says softly, “when we are called to do the most difficult thing of all: wait.”
Rhoelyn: “While I wait, people are dying. It hardly seems fair.” The blood elf rubs at his eyes with his free hand. “Sorry, I… something is itching my eyes.”
Araatris: She pats his hand gently before releasing it. “It might be the steam.” Korran snorts. “I can finish here, Leothir. Thank you for the help.”
Rhoelyn: Leothir’s hand drops and he stares at Rhoelyn, unguarded and stricken. “N-no. I can finish up here. It’s not bad.” He forces a tremulous grin.
Araatris: She gives a simple nod as she settles back in to the work. “If you’re certain.” Rhoelyn brushes at her steam-wet cheek with one sleeve.
Rhoelyn: Leothir goes back to scrubbing the breeches, unwilling to break the silence. If water runs down his cheeks while he works, he doesn’t stop them.
Araatris: After many long minutes, as she carefully presses the water from her gown, Rhoelyn finally speaks without looking over. “I… don’t understand.”
Rhoelyn: Holding up the pants to look at a stain, his gaze flickers toward her. “What don’t you understand?” Leo leans back down to work on the knee.
Araatris: “I don’t understand why you’re here, Leothir. I doubt it is a secret love of laundry.” She looks over. “I can offer very little to help you.”
Rhoelyn: He sighs and stops, draping the pants on the edge of the tub. He turns and gently grasps her soapy hand. “Rhoelyn, sometimes what you (c)
Rhoelyn: (c) offer is not advice or a solution. I don’t expect you to fix my problems, but I would very much like your company. It gives me comfort.”
Araatris: Surprised, she flicks a glance down at their hands. A blush darkens her cheeks, but she doesn’t acknowledge it. “Well. Then you have my company.”
Rhoelyn: The mage leans forward, searching her expression. “I’m sorry, princ-Rhoelyn. Argh!” Leothir flushes and drops his head. “Why is that so hard?!”
Araatris: The priestess laughs softly and pats his hand. “I don’t truly mind. I just… I-it isn’t worth aggravation. Call me by the nickname, if you wish.”
Rhoelyn: “Really? You can call me Leo if you want. It’d only be fair, princess.” His gaze lingers on her cheeks and lips before settling on her eyes.
Araatris: Missing nothing in his gaze, Rhoelyn blushes more and attempts to cover it by wiping at her cheek, again. “I thought you didn’t like that name.”
Rhoelyn: Leothir watches her intently and murmurs, “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just a very personal name that I prefer limiting to those I choose.”
Araatris: “Ah.” The priestess lowers her gaze, suddenly shy. “Then you honor me. I will call you Leo, of course. I-it is very easy to say,” she rambles.
Rhoelyn: Smiling, he brushes her hair behind her ear and rests his hand on her cheek. “It would be my honor, dear princess, to hear you speak it.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn raises her eyes to his as he leans closer. “Leo…” she starts, but the comment trickles away as she catches in his intense gaze.
Rhoelyn: The mage is suddenly yanked backwards by his shirt collar as Quaed rasps, “Play time’s over, Leothir. Nataro wants to talk with you again.”
Araatris: The sin’dorei curses under his breath, flailing to avoid falling off the stool. Rhoe starts and pulls back as Korran leaps to his paws, snarling.
Rhoelyn: “Let me go!” Leothir growls, “I’ll be there later.” The undead smirks. “I don’t plan on leaving. I had to hunt you down for the past hour.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn stands and rests a calming hand on Korran’s withers. “Good morning, Quaed,” she says softly, her head high despite the leftover blush.
Rhoelyn: The rogue finally turns to the priestess. “Good morning, Rhoelyn. I’ll have to borrow your… helper. Do you need me to get Nysse to finish these?”
Araatris: “No, thank you. I’ll finish soon.” She turns to Leothir and offers a polite smile. “I wouldn’t want to keep you. I appreciate your help, Leo.”
Rhoelyn: Leothir yanks himself free of the undead’s grip. Flushed, he straightens his clothing and bows deeply, “It was my pleasure, Rhoelyn.”
Araatris: Quaed turns and precedes him out the door. “Come on, Leo.” The mage slants the priestess one last glance before following. “You don’t call me that.”
Rhoelyn: The rogue snorts, “Fine. Whatever you want, pretty boy. Now hurry it up.” Rhoelyn waits until they are out of sight to sit. Korran noses her.
Araatris: The priestess rubs his ears. “Thank you for being vigilant, sweet spirit.” She rests her forehead against his neck, muttering, “This is bad.”
Rhoelyn: Korran rumbles softly and sighs. Rhoelyn chuckles weakly. “I know this is unwise. What am I thinking?” She looks at him. “Is Nysse still resting?”
Araatris: When he wuffs and nudges at her, the little night elf nods and straightens. “Yes. I don’t want her to worry. Let me finish up.”
Rhoelyn: Rhoelyn scrubs and rinses the garments, then puts them back in the basket. “I can hang them up in the room. Let’s go, Korran.”
Araatris: When the priestess and her guardian return, they find Nysse waiting, their travel satchels slung over her shoulder with her new bow and quiver.
Rhoelyn: “Rhoe! Put the clothes in this bag.” Nysse holds out a sack and grins broadly. “I’ve checked and we can leave for Tian Monastery today.”
Araatris: “O-oh?” The priestess blinks as Nysse takes the basket. “You look more like ‘this very moment’ than ‘today’, my sister. Our clothes haven’t dried.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress chuckles and puts the wet garments in the bag. “Yeah, I guess I’m just excited to see Tsume and the others. Is that okay?”
Araatris: Rhoelyn nods and hides her complete feelings behind her well-practiced smile. “Of course, Nysse. I miss Tsume as well. And Jay will be frantic.”
Rhoelyn: “Ugh. I can’t imagine what updates they’ve been giving Morthis. I sure hope he hasn’t passed any of it to Rhese.” The young night elf grimaces.
Araatris: The priestess pales at the idea, groaning. “If he learns even half of what’s transpired, he’ll never let me take another step outside Nighthaven.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse sighs and ties up the bag. “You and me both. I hope we can do damage control. Is there anything you need to do? Mu Lin’s waiting for us.”
Araatris: With only the slightest glance flicked back toward where she came from, Rhoe shakes her head and folds her hands in front of her. “No. I am ready.”
Rhoelyn: Wrapping an arm around the bag, Nysse turns and chatters, “Mu Lin is sure that we can make good time, but we’ll have to camp tonight.”
Araatris: “Only one night?” The priestess follows her, resting a hand on Korran’s shoulder as they walk. “That is very good time.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress nods, “I hope he’s right, but even so… I’ll feel better to be on our way back. If only it could be that easy back to Nighthaven…”
Araatris: Rhoelyn wraps her arm around Nysse, squeezing her shoulder. “Don’t be anxious about the trip home, sister. At the end of it waits your sweet boy.”
Rhoelyn: “Sweet boys,” Nysse corrects with a fond smile. “Rhese, too. I wonder if he’s managed to finish the mission and get the dye out of his fur…”
Araatris: “Hm. I think I may be a bit disappointed if he has. The dye, that is.” The priestess grins and then pulls away to bow at Mu Lin as they approach.
Rhoelyn: Mu Lin returns her bow. “Good morning. Are you both ready to leave then? I have borrowed another serpent in case you wish to ride together.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn smiles. “You are thoughtful as always, Mu Lin.” The Pandaren smiles back. “It pleases me to hear you sounding like yourself once again.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse grins broadly. “It’s wonderful.” She glances at Korran who dissipates and rejoins with her. “Where should we put our gear, Mu Lin?”
Araatris: The serpent rider gestures and before long, he and Nysse have stowed their belongings on the saddle. Rhoelyn visits with Hansho while she waits.
Rhoelyn: Hansho bows, but raises with a frown. “You all will return to Tian Monastery. I hope the lessons you have learned here will go with you.”
Araatris: The night elf smiles warmly. “You can rest assured that they will. I am deeply honored by your temple’s and great Xuen’s generosity and wisdom.”
Rhoelyn: The pandaren nods. “We grant you one last gift.” Hansho holds out a feline statue in one paw. “So he may watch over you wherever you may go.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn takes the statue with reverent care, examining the lifelike carving. She brushes the smooth, pristine white stone. “It’s beautiful, Hansho.”
Rhoelyn: “It was made by one of the monks here. Mu Lin suggested it.” He ignores her curious gaze. “Have a safe journey, Rhoelyn Silverwing.”
Araatris: The priestess bows deeply in the kal’dorei fashion. “Thank you. I will treasure the gift always. Elune keep you.” He turns, leaving her grinning.
Rhoelyn: Nysse joins Rhoelyn and peers over her shoulder. “That’s pretty. Did Hansho give you that?” Hansho seems to step away a little more quickly.
Araatris: The little night elf turns and shows it to her sister as they step back over to the serpent dragon. “Isn’t it lovely? Mu Lin, it was your idea?”
Rhoelyn: Mu Lin chuckles. “Yes, but what he did not tell you was that he asked my opinion.” Nysse laughs. “He was planning to get something anyway?”
Araatris: “And after I was so awful to him.” Rhoe looks at his distant, retreating back as she pokes at the packing for a safe place to put it. “How kind!”
Rhoelyn: The huntress smiles. “He really is. He’s tough, but I think it’s to force us to grow.” Nysse glances up. “We should head out.” Mu Lin nods.
Araatris: The night elves climb on the back of the restless dragon, Nysse patting its scaled neck. Rhoelyn glances back at the temple one last time.
Rhoelyn: Nysse settles her arm around Rhoelyn. “It’s peaceful here. I’m going to miss it, too, sister.” The dragon slowly rises with Hushao, following.
Araatris: Rhoelyn hums softly to herself as she stitches the gash in the side of her dress, her attention fixed on the needle and thread.