"Yoooo, Amon! How's it going--aww, hi, kitty!"
Amonair chuckled, setting down the cast-iron frying pan he'd managed to finish fixing just as its owner walked in the door. "Can't complain. Pan's ready, Lara."
Lara Skybright grinned at him, straightening up the crouch she'd adopted to cuddle Amon's orange cat. "Thanks. Glad I caught you; I'd thought you'd've been gone by now."
He blinked at her. "Huh?"
"...You didn't hear? You didn't hear." She took a preemptive step back. "Okay. Well, it's in all the papers, but basically Garrosh escaped his trial--"
"What?!"
"--yeah. And um. He escaped to an alternate Draenor, apparently? And he recently busted back through the Dark Portal with an army..." She trailed off, watching as the battlemage's tattoos started to glow; her next words came in a rush. "AndtheysayThalenSongweaverishelpinghim."
With an inarticulate scream of rage, Amon turned and slammed a flaming fist against the wall so hard that he left a mark on the stone. "I'll fucking kill him! I knew finding him in Orgrimmar was too good to be true!"
She took a deep breath. "...Are you sure about that? Because...people have gone through the portal. And nobody's come back or been able to send word..." And I know you have people you don't want to leave behind, she tactfully didn't say.
With difficulty, Amonair forced himself to relax. "...Just don't be too surprised if I pack up and leave. My friends want Songweaver dead just as much as I do."
Lara nodded. "Be careful if you do go, okay? Here's the money I owe you."
As she left, pan slung over her shoulder, Amon sat down with a thump. Possible vengeance versus almost certainly never seeing my friends or family or Juri again. Okay, unless they come too, which they probably won't. Fuck, why can't things just be simple?
He needed a drink. Or several.
