The fog of war has left no place untouched - not even in a place as peaceful as the foothills. Yet the halfling could appreciate that these hillsides were still a rather tranquil place to travel, even if coaxed with an underlying melancholy. Away from the path most traveled she was; no former monuments were in immediate sight (&nor was she, lest someone truly be looking for her kind) which made for an even more peaceful experience; a place to collect her thoughts and meditate the mind.
Along her travels she had come across yet another remnant of war - though perhaps one a bit more natural than the ones most had bore witness too. A creature, clearly deteriorated with the ticking of time (if she were being hopeful, of course) lay bare; ripped to pieces by some other predator - or perhaps another. The details were difficult to make out without close inspection, though the smell that wafted from the carcass was not one that could ever be called pleasant; Death had most certainly reached this being before she ever could.
The presence of another should have potentially startled the paladin more than it seemingly did. Kneeling before the unknown, she was far too preoccupied to even acknowledge a sense of danger. “I would like to hope that it’s the cycle of life - an animal that did not quite win it’s battle against its predators. Honestly, though… I cannot be certain.” Her eyes gazed upward, attention heading towards the cloaked and hooded figure before her. A female voice was what she heard; a traveler, perhaps?
“Dangerous or not, though, I was considering cleaning it up. Burying it, perhaps - even if it is an estranged creature, it can at least have some peace.”
Such a strange sentiment and oddly touching at the same time. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d met someone with a heart so big that they felt even for a decaying corpse. No saintly priest in Stormwind would ever have deigned to sully their pristine hands with such a task, but here was this girl rattling such an idea as though it were the simplest thing in the world ------- as though it was her duty to give a carcass its last rites.
She peered down at the mutilated body, trying her best not to let her disgust show. Even in all her years spent fighting the gruesome undead, it still turned her stomach to see rot this bad. Yet this girl’s composure was enough to inspire her to ignore the unease she felt at the memories that came creeping through the shadows, ready to ambush. Such an overt and obvious sign of death reminded her far too much of things better she’d been struggling with for the past few years to leave behind.
Instead she tore her gaze away from the carcass and to the girl who was another object of interest. Tall and lithe like most elves, yet she’d been in the company of many of this girl’s kind for years to see the subtle differences in her features. Curiouser and Curiouser, she suspected that there was quite a story to tell with this one, and anyone who’d ever known her also knew that she, Jaina Proudmoore, loved stories.
“Then here’s hoping that whatever did that to this poor creature is far and away by now.” Still her hands suddenly felt empty without her staff. As a mage, she was never truly defenceless, but faced with the sudden possibility of battle, she wished she had something more than her own spells.
She pursed her lips as she considered her next course of action. Ahead was an inn and beyond that was a long road, but with no deadline to meet, she was in no hurry to reach her destination. Stopping for a few moments to help a kind stranger was no inconvenience, but the longer she lingered she risked the chance of being discovered.
And yet against all logic, she couldn’t ignore her insatiable need to know. “I have time to spare, if you’d like a hand with burying the creature then I’d be more than happy to help.”
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