Behind Enemy Lines
Day: 9
Injuries: 1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leather boots carried the stealthed rogue over the uneven and war marked terrain, a pace or two ahead of him the Lightforged woman carried forward. Days of nothing but recon and mapping out the area had given the pair a better idea of the scale of their task and the layout of the land around them.
The walls of their encampment trickled into view between charred and fallen trees in the distance.
For the most part the mission had been uneventful, their task of finding where hostages were being held and freeing them proving unfruitful until today.
A small makeshift camp had shifted location in the last few days. The area around it swarming with a plethora of Horde standing guard. The pair were to report back and help in capturing the camp in the next day or two.
Fhaliona stepped through the trees into the clearing with Dizarak in tow. A few feet from the gate he unstealthed, standing a little taller. A large hand lifted to massage and roll his shoulder with a grimace.
"If it is still bothering you, perhaps you should have it looked at?" The Draenei pointed out, flicking her gaze at him as he caught up to her and walked along side her.
"S'just a little tender is all, not everyday you have to single handedly catch a falling lightforged and all her armor now is it?"
Fhaliona narrowed her eyes, their little misadventure the day before had left the giant with a dislocated shoulder. The ground having crumbled beneath her hooves unexpectedly. If not for the Ren'dorei's quick thinking she could be nursing much worse.
"Hey, don't give me that look. Not my fault you are far from light on your feet." He poked fun reaching over to flick her pauldron, "S'ides I got it back in just fine and it'll stop aching. I can still use it just fine."
Weaving their way through the tents full of soldiers and footmen, the two fell silent. Their own pair of temporary quarters rest on the outskirts of the masses, a small fire pit, two tents and a table they had snuck out of the mess hall. The less they had to be around the others the better off the pair of battle buddies felt.
Dizarak slipped into his tent, undoing his leathers and slipping into a looser fitting shirt without sleeves and a pair of thin leather pants. The photo frame and his pack of cigarettes palmed before he rolled himself onto his cot.
Slowly he felt himself losing track of the days, what point was there in counting when you didn't even know how long your stay would be?
He frowned up at the ceiling, eyes welling up with heated tears, swallowing thickly as he tried to fight them off.
Home.
He wanted to be anywhere but here. The sting in his heart as he watched the Bloodelves patrolling the encampment they had found had left him uneasy.
For once he felt as though he were behind enemy lines. The Alliance may be his people's new home but his heart had chosen differently. He'd found sanctuary in a sleepy little island and within it a place and lovers to call his own. Times like these forced him to recognize the world and war around him. How forbidden others would see the bond he shared with his mates.
Pinching his eyes shut, a single bead of salted tear rolled down his temple and into his braid. Though not braided as well as if Azryl had done it, he had been content with his attempt at recreating it after his bath the night before.
Dizarak tapped the cigarette case against his palm until one slid out further than the others, tucking it between his lips before carefully lighting it. Learning over, he deposited the case next to his folded leathers and rolled back into a more comfortable position. The large male took a long drag, letting the smoke roll from his nose and linger in the small cloth covered space.
As the final pull soothed his mind, the spent butt was set atop the ashtray he brought and he slipped into a shallow slumber.
(Mentions: @blackhooftrading , @ashraenv , @azadzior and an overarching mention of @heartoftheravenwra )
