Atop the pandaren cliff sides, next to a waterfall were two elves. One was standing, midway through a depature. Long pale fingers on him dropped a large stick.
Another was an elf writhing in pain. Blood spilling from his lips as he struggled to breath. Slowly he felt himself being able to draw breath.
Rosemarris words had held true. Syred was a dark and terrible man. Though he had certain thresholds. It was clear he had no qualms about brutality and vicious behaviors. " You will live." His shoe pulled from the mans throat, one last swipe to the males ribs as if another jarring of Finality. " The advice is free, but I won't do Roses killing -for- her. I am no ones pawn."
He'd turned to scowl at the broken foundation, an old home. " Everyone has their own hell...Claw your way out of yours, expect no one to save you. Empower yourself in any way necessary....-Save- yourself. If you do not learn how to do so you will always be victim to something new." He'd stepped away, tossing the stick to the ground. the wood clattering against hard earth. He'd begun stepping down the path, each movement melting his body more and more into dust. Before long the man had dispersed into a cloud of smoke and begun floating off into the sky.
Ithildir laid in the dirt as blood continued to spill from his mouth, nose, and ears. He listened to Syred's explanation and committed it to memory as his abuser walked away and dispersed into a cloud of smoke. He could feel each breath rasp within his chest as a white noise began to build, and soon enough Ithildir fell unconscious.
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Arie peak, the snowy hills and mountain side. Syred had taken the time to travel home. A dispersed cloud formed back into an elf several hundred yards. He stood there, seething in rage.
He had -asked- her to leave him alone. He had tried to make deals to never meet or come to him again. Slow, heavy breathing escaped him as if he was..trying to calm himself. Hot unpredictable rage. He wasn’t taking it home. He refused to.
Syred always had some simmering wrath within, always some level of anger and hatred. It was simply part of his biology now, most he could control. Rose had hit a special nerve the male didn’t even know he had. It was as if a knife perpetually sunken into his back he couldn’t pull out.
he -HATED- Rose so much. It was absurd. He couldn’t think of another person he hated more. Surely there were stupid people he despised. There was just something about Rose that just -triggered- him.
He wasn’t sure which he hated more, Rose or the lack of control over his anger when he’d heard even a hint of her name. Syred had just ruthlessly beat an innocent bystander, albeit a bit of an entitled one to near death just because he’d used her as a reference.
He wanted to be the reason he beat the man half to death to be his attitude, but he couldn’t say that.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------It took Syred an hour of standing alone in the snow to bring himself to a simmer, a task more rushed when the sound of snow crunching loudly, clumsily. All bundled up in large mittens, thick boots,multiple coats and a little leather charm tucked underneath. Amarah had been steadily approaching him.
Syred levitated from the snow, rushing after the girl as she plodded forward, in a moments movements he’d snatched the girl up from the ground and kept her from the snow. Amarahs large bundled up arms squeezing against Syreds frame. Syred immediately went into chiding her.
“Amarah! You’re too far from the house, there are traps out here.”
“ Nuh uh.”
Syred just stared at the top of the small childs curly red locks. “Yes. Yes there are. You’re not to be out here.”
“You’re out here.”
“ I know where the traps are, you don’t.”
Amarah simply continued to squeezed him, burying her face in his shirt, which was becoming more and more soaked through residual snow.
“ We’re going back inside.”
“ Okay!”
