From the early hours of yesterday morning Dylan had been awake and fighting. The end of the day now, he was exhausted. Seeing the world tree burn hadn’t phased him like it had a night elf, though he did have family who resided in that tree. Memories of the place, something of care that was for it, even if not in the way that others had.
Awake now for almost a full twenty four hours, and in almost non stop combat for the last twenty, he was on his last legs. Walking down the beach from Lor’Danel, there were corpses washed up every inch of the sands. The water was painted red, and as the tide came in it washed over the corpses of all those who had fallen. Civilians, combatants, commanders, any who had died near the seas was washing up here it seemed.
He muttered that over every body he had checked. Occasionally there would be a Horde soldier doing a similar activity to him. His sword drawn, some would insist on combat, and find their death, others would move on and he would spare them for now. “I need to find her.” He mentioned again, he didn’t care for who may have heard him.
Late into the early hours of the morning. The beach still lit up from the light coming from the burning world tree. He spotted something, something living. A hippogryph. Some of its feathers had been scorched, but it seemed to be mostly okay. It was laying down, its wing draped over what seemed to be a Worgen’s body. A chestnut furred foot being visible from the distance at which he stood.
Fear. A bone chilling force halted Dylan in his approach, the thought raced through his mind. Unable to think anything else the words rung out like a barrage of cannons firing off in unison. It couldn’t be.
He mustered up the courage to continue his advance, “This couldn’t be her. No.” He said, not even hearing his own words. As he approached the beast it stood up, giving off an aggressive territorial screech.
From the beast’s new posture, Dylan could see clear as day, the chestnut furred worgen’s body lay dead on the beach, enough survived so he could recognize her, but so much was wrong. Clothing burnt and fused to skin, all of the wounds untreated for so long, he wasn’t one from a medical background, but he could tell when one was gone.
He collapsed to his knees, eyes fixed upon the corpse that lay beneath the hippogryph. The beast seemed to have a bit of an understanding that he meant no harm to it or the corpse, and let its guard down somewhat.
The black clad Worgen had pushed his blade into the sand, and stayed staring at the burnt corpse for near five minutes, no passers by, from either side of the war. It seems the beast picked a good place to rest.
“What more's ya’ take.” He growled. His eyes closed and head facing the sand, “Was one not 'nough? Was everythin' not 'nough for you?” His eyes opened and tears started to wet the fur near his eyes. “You’ll take nothin’ more from me, Banshee Queen.”
He rested his hand on the beak of the hippogryph, they both seemed to understand one another without words. He gathered up the corpse of the Worgen woman, and mounted the creature, gripping tight on the reins and keeping a secure grip on the woman, they took off. There was a long flight ahead of them, portals and boats where he was headed were few and far between, but he would make as good time as he could, stopping only for provisions and things to help preserve the corpse.
This war was far from over. He would not let this go unpunished. He will have vengeance.
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