❛ You demonstrated courage and goodness. ❜
the witcher prompts ☁ //: @blackshadcw
How long it had been; How long since she had met with her kindness. In war there existed none, beneath the hate and the unacceptable. Sympathy was met with bitterness and contempt. To be kind in such trying times was to be an enemy to the crown. Such was reality, such was fate. To even be in the wild, twisting lands filled with wandering giants of the past was equivalent to infiltrating a primal prison thought once inescapable. But Euanthe bore no weight of her questionable choices. There was many an authority to blame for the atrocities she had witnessed in her life upon Azeroth. For many long, winding years, she and her family fled as they were hounded even through the stars. From planet to planet, world to world, conflict pressed into her life like thousands of giant, poisoned spears. No matter where she walked, there was no peace. No love, no acceptance. She saw naught but pride strewn upon the ground in a bloody, tattered mess. In that hateful existence, she found nothing .
But in tears she found humanity. The cry of a child rolling across the fields, beneath the pounding of earth and ear-piercing roars. Though gentle giants in many aspects, a defensive brutosaur was nothing short of a nightmare. It was a recognizable response. She had seen such frightened demeanors in elekk. Even the strongest of draenei could wind up trampled and killed without caution to an inattentive beast. No being of their size would ever survive being stepped on by the large dinosaur ── especially not a young child. An expression of fear glazed over teal eyes, a scurry of distance much too short to make up for the sheer size of the foot descending rapidly upon her. Was that the reckless nature of Zandalari children? No ─── Euanthe had known many a child with such abandon. She thought to tame it, or perhaps climb its scales and ridges and ride it around the forest. How familiar such impetuousness was; how like other races’ children that was. There was no difference between them in this world. They were all the same, and yet still they fought. It was a sad existence of reality .
Fleet-footed paws leap, carried forward by the change of the wind. Little time was wasted between the travel and close. Though not nearly a bullet, a ghostly beast on all fours was not steady going. She listens to the dire rumbling of the earth like a timer, sliding beneath the massive body of the brutosaur and grabbing the child by the lining of her collar. Drifting, nearly twisting paws, the shaman holds within her throat a pained whine as the force of the beast’s foot sends her future out of its way. There was little reaction in response, to start. The young child, in the light of fear and life threat, sees only a wolf as her hero. There is no discernible difference between her race and those of the Alliance within such a form. The shaman knows this. She says nothing, even when praised and petted like a normal animal. Once more comfortable and further away from the fields, there is mention of the loa of death and being looked after. Perhaps, in that moment of shock, she had been seen as the spirit of a wolf rather than simply a shaman. Her parents would know better when she inevitably retold the story. But they would know nothing of her identity, or even what she truly was. It mattered little to the tired wolf. Euanthe felt no remorse in kindness .
A stride, and she is hidden away from sight once more beneath the brush of the wild. Sitting, wincing as body shifts and the pain of twisting an ankle too far hits in full form. It does not make it impossible to walk, but it is far from a pleasant thing. How fortunate that the next tone she hears, rather than one of spitting anger, is one of praise. There is no animosity there, for the time being. Resting, soft eyes aglow with a relaxed expression. A slight smile, a warmed heart. She finds respite in that familiar voice .
❝ Is that so? To me, I see only humanity . ❞
