@mciev
»»————- He sits calmly, still, almost as though he were a statue. Some days are worse than others, but today Illidan could sense the magic thrumming within the concrete floor of his prison. The power of the ancients that guarded this place had a special kind of magic; they often forgot that he was a Night Elf once. He still had a connection with the elements, with nature, even after he had forsaken it. The felfire that usually shines bright behind his blindfold is extinguished as he held this lids closed. He can feel her coming, before he hears her. The soft clicking of her armor against the pavement, the rattling of her blades against her back, the warden sounds more like an amusement than a guard to him. "Maiev," Came the ragged voice, scratchy with disuse. "How kind of you to come and check on me." ————-««