Belief

Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. I do not make any money writing this.

Author's Note: This is based off of my own character (actually an alt.. but, psh, details!) because I wanted to actually bring one of my characters off the screen and to life in my eyes. So, this is what follows. The in-depth story of her, as seen through.. "my" eyes, I suppose. Anyway. Read, review, enjoy, and let me know what you think!

PS-No sex in first chapter, sorry! There will be lots later, I promise... it just takes a little build up to that, I feel, as this is more than just a smutfic to my mind.

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Chapter One


I glanced up in surprise, only just in time to twist to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade that swung through the air I had just been occupying. Growling under my breath, I hit the ground, rolling across the grass and dirt, coming back up on my knees, swinging my shield up just in time as the next blow crashed down upon it. Internally, I winced at the force of the blow—it would weaken the shield even more. It was time to get a new one.

“Little help here,” I growled, eyeing the other three advancing on me, my eyes narrowing in dislike.

“Busy,” I heard the reply, and glanced over my shoulder to see Kinalla, my partner-in-crime, so to speak, dancing backwards away from a pair of advancing foes herself. She cast her hands out, the golden glow of her holy magic surrounding them, and one of the two men before her cried out and went to his knees, holding his head in both hands.

I lashed out with my blade in my free hand, grinning slightly as I felt it sink into flesh, my grin growing as the man above let out a howl as it cracked through one rib and deep into the soft tissue of his middle. He fell backwards, and I helped him down, smacking him with my shield as I rose to my feet, flying into the rest. One grunted as I slammed him backwards into his friend, his friend's dagger therefore becoming embedded deeply in his back, and glared at me as he slowly went down.

I was past him, however, parrying one attack smoothly, twisting my sword in my hand to bring it around in a viscous backhand blow that neatly beheaded the second man. The third flung his hands up, and I felt the impact of the spell even as I flew backwards, my bones numbing with the cold, my muscles freezing up—it was a mental state, I knew, and would soon pass, but I grit my teeth anyway as I smashed into the ground, rolling again.

Kinalla, meanwhile, had taken care of her two, and turned back to me. I was rising, slowly, and my eyes went to the mage before me, who was grinning cruelly as he summoned the magic for his next spell. My eyes widened slightly—I would not be able to stop it in time, I was too far away... I lunged froward anyway, forcing myself to move despite the deep cold wracking through me, and he laughed...

“NO!” I heard Kinalla yell, and a second later the spell was flying—to smash harmlessly against the barrier of holy magic Kinalla had thrown up between the two of us. I grinned now, at the look of shock and displeasure on the mage's face, which quickly turned to horror as I closed with him quickly, the numbing cold gone, worn away, and shoved my blade straight through his middle. He went down with a hiss, a soft sigh of escaped breath, and moved no more.

I stood over him, breathing heavily, and turned to survey the area around us. The battle had not been easy, nor short. There were well over twenty of the men laying scattered about, some blown open by forces of magic, others laying almost as if asleep, others cut and hacked apart. I licked my lips slowly. Compared to them, our injuries were minor. A few scrapes here, a minor bruise or two there.

“We should get out of here,” Kinalla said, stepping up to my side. There was a tear down the side of her robe, and blood glistened wetly on the edges. I shoved my sword into its sheath and gently pulled the edges back. She gave a soft hiss of pain as I did so.

“You're hurt,” I observed.

“Nothing I can't heal,” she said with a smile, and closed her eyes briefly as she summoned her holy magic once more, casting the rejuvenating waves of energy through her body. A slight shiver ran through her as she finished, and when I looked again, it was healed up, not even a pale pink line left to mark where she had been cut. “You're alright, yes?” she asked me.

“I think so,” I replied, running a hand down my stomach. I had a few aches and pains around and throughout my body, mostly from smacking into the ground repeatedly. “If not, we'll find out later.”

She knew what I meant, and nodded. I didn't feel pain, like normal. When I was in battle, I was in battle. My powers, unlike hers, were launched from the rage of the fight, the adrenaline rush, the pure “fight or flight” response that my body put all into “fight.” When that wore off, sometimes, I would find injuries that I did realize had been there. We had been running together long enough for both of us to know each other's quirks, and trusted each other implicitly.

We headed back over to our mounts, which were right where we had left them, watching the fight with something akin to boredom. They had seen plenty of violence in their day. I swung up onto the back of my hippogryph, a gift from the Silver Covenant, while Kinalla mounted her own netherdrake, which shook his head in greeting before we kicked off the ground, heading away. Even as we left, another patrol of the Cult of the Damned members were heading into the clearing we had just annihilated the last force within.

Faintly, over the wind rushing past, I heard a few faint crys of outrage as they found the bodies, and smiled.

* * * *

Several months prior

* * * *

“I know you don't want to, Nymuri, but you must.”

I frowned up at him. What did he know of “must” and “duty” and “obligations”? “You're not going.”

“Which is all the more reason for you to, Nym,” he said softly, reaching down to cup my chin in his hand. My father was much taller than I was—most of my people were, as I was classified as a runt, literally, standing barely an inch taller than an average human.

“Because you can't?” I snapped, and instantly regretted it. The hurt was in his eyes already though, and nothing I could say could take it back. “Because you want me to do what you couldn't?”

“Because you have the gift,” he said softly. “Because you have the skills to lead where others do not, and the abilities to fight and survive where others would fall. Because the world needs you more than we do.”

“I can fight and serve here. Why go to Stormwind, and fight with the humans? Why serve in this so-called Alliance anyway?” I pouted. I know it was petulant, I know it was immature. But I didn't care. I wanted to help MY people, not some people a world away, as far as I was concerned.

He dropped my chin, and turned away, walking back to our quarters within the crashed ship. “Go, Nymuri. I will not have this discussion with you any further. You know your duty, now step up to it with pride.”

I watched him go, watched the door close behind him, and knew it would never open for me again. No matter how many years passed between now and whenever I was able to return, this was not home for me any longer. I turned away, shifting the weight of the shield on my back. It seemed to pull at me suddenly, as did the mail armor draping my frame, but it was time to go, time to grow, and time to learn.

The following weeks passed quickly. By the time I had reached Stormwind, I had replaced the scraggly mail armor with fine new plate armor pieces I had picked up doing odd work for villages and towns that I passed through on my way there. They seemed to have no shortage of work that needed done, as much of the world's focus was far to the north, on Northrend, with the fear of another Scourge invasion hanging over all, and no travelers out and about to do the work for simple, honest folk as was usual.

So I knelt before the king of Stormwind, and swore my service to the Alliance. He eyed me doubtfully as I did so, his lips curling in disdain as they raked over me. I was not only shorter than the average Draenei, no. I had to be petite, as well. Smaller. I wore my plate armor with pride, bore the weight of it easily, carried my blade in a firm hand, and told him of the many deeds I had accomplished, however, and he finally gave a single sharp nod.

“Head to the cathedral, girl,” he growled at me. “There you will find a bishop with a task that needs done. He sent word earlier for me to send the next able-bodied warrior that came my way to him; since you are what I have, you are what I will send.”

I bowed deeply, remaining silent, and went on my way. I gathered my mount outside where a stable boy held the reins. He handed them back, keeping his hand out for a piece of silver. I pressed it into his palm with a small wince. I was poor; most of the gold I had gathered had been spent on various things. Masters of the warrior arts had not parted with the secrets of our ways cheaply, for one. Armor was expensive to maintain and repair as well, and constant battle wore on it constantly. Food and drink, and even a bed to sleep in at night, were almost items of some cost. The dwindling weight of my purse hung at my waist as I swung into the saddle of my moonsaber. It had been a gift from a friend within Darnassus; the Night Elves were easy to please, and valuable allies once they were sworn to your side. I had not wasted time making fast with them.

Turning towards the cathedral, which loomed high above the city, I rounded the canals, pondering this task I was to be sent on. It would be the first of many, I was sure, in actual service to the Alliance. The Exodar had rung with tales of those returned from mighty adventures for the Alliance. Great foes, long feared, had been cast down and vanquished. The Outlands had been liberated from the Burning Legion, Illidian cast down, Lady Vashj destroyed, along with so many others. They were glorious tales, and while I was burning to be a part of it, a part of me was also afraid. Afraid that I would be found wanting, that I would be inadequate, that I would fall here, now...

I looked up with a startled “oh” to realize I was at the entrance to the cathedral. I swung down from my mount and rubbed the saber's nose before heading inside. My hooves clicked softly on the tiled flooring as I made my way inside. Almost at once, two people turned to note my entrance. “Greetings, welcome to the Cathedral of Light. How many I assist you today, young Draenei?” one of the priests said, in a kindly tone.

“My name is Nymuri,” I replied, shyly, and stepped forwards. “I was ah... sent here, by the, ah.. by King Varian, and he said-”

“Ah, you must be here about the Scarlet Monastery then. Come, come.” He turned and lead the way deeper inside, before heading down a staircase to a smaller room. There were only two people in the room—an older male, and a young female, who could not have been any older than I was, and clasd in a shimmering white gown. “This young one has come in answer to the summons,” the priest escoring me announced, bowed, and showed himself out, closing the door softly behind him.

The older man looked me up and down with the same scrutiny the King had. “You're the best the king could do? Well. No matter. The task is simple enough, in truth. Listen carefully, the both of you.”

“Both?” the girl in the room spoke, and when his eyes shot to her, her cheeks colored and she looked down. “Pardons,” she whispered.

“Yes, both, girl. You didn't expect to sit here in Stormwind forever, now did you? You have sufficient training, it is time to see you use some of your skills in the field. Yes, quite time. You will have this young warrior at your side, so no harm will come to you, unless you fail to watch out for one another.”

I glanced at the girl out of the corner of my eye, a bit indignant. “If she does wish to go, surely I can handle the matter alone,” I began, but he waved a hand impatiently.

“I said the task was easy, yes, but not merely child's play! By the Light above, do you think to merely walk into the stronghold of the Scarlet Crusade along and succeed?”

“The Draenei is right,” the girl interjected once more, but held her ground this time when he looked at her sharply again, though the flush in her cheeks did deepen. My tail twitched in agitation. “She can surely handle this task alone, and I can be sent out with a more... fitting... traveling companion.”

My tail lashed angrily against my armor, making a solid thunk. “I am unsuitable?” I demanded. “You think I am weak, or stupid?”

“I think you are Draenei,” she spat back, rising to her feet. “And I don't trust you!”

“ENOUGH!” the man thundered, glaring daggers at the girl. “Kinalla, you know I admire your spirit, but enough is enough! You will be sent to the Monastery, with this girl at your side, and you will either return in victory, or not return at all.”

She turned to him, the color draining from her cheeks now. “You can't be serious.”

“Oh but I am. I have made my decision, and you will honor it.” He thumped his desk with one fist. “You both know what to do. Go to the Scarlet Monastery. Eliminate their leaders. Kill any others who interfere. Is there any confusion here?”

I shook my head slowly, glancing between the two of them.

“Then go. Get out of here.”

* * * *

I glanced up at the monastery's walls before me. There were guards and patrols milling about outside, some chatting idly among themselves. Crouching there, I pulled my shield over my shoulder and settled it on my arm, gripping it tightly.

“We can go through them, or try to go around,” I said softly to Kinalla. She gave me an unreadable look. “What? I was giving you the option to-”

I cut off as she stood, her holy magic filling the air around her with a glow, and struck down a man quickly. Who just happened to be in the middle of four-five others, who looked over, saw her standing there, and came running, raising the alarm as they did so.

“Choose,” I finished lamely, and leapt up, running into their path. They redirected towards me even as she summoned the magic necessary for another spell.

I slammed my shield into the first, knocking him clear off of his feet. Planting my feet firmly in the ground, I hacked downwards on the second man, my blade shearing through his arm right at the shoulder. He screamed as his blood sprayed across his companion and he fell sideways, but I was already twisting, driving my sword forward in a hard thrust that tore through another as a blow glanced off my raised shield. Another man screamed as fire summoned in a pillar from Kinalla, enveloped his body, then the arrows started falling.

Kinalla cursed and cast a shield around herself, dropping out of sight quickly. I slammed another man to the ground, stomping hard on his face to keep him from getting back up. Wincing at the bloody mess under-hoof, I pivoted on my other foot and ducked under two incoming arrows to slash across the belly of another man charging in. He went down with his arms wrapped around his middle, trying to keep his insides in.

I growled, feeling my power growing, and swung my weapon in an arc in front of me, forcing the ever-growing group of foes back. A couple backed away too slowly, and one screeched as his arm was removed just below the elbow, another grunting as he received a gash across his ribs.

An arrow struck my armor, sticking in the joint of armor between my shoulder piece and chest plate. I grunted at the impact, and raised my shield a little more warily. More arrows were raining in, however, and Kinalla was no where to be seen.

I backed up a step, and the men before me surged forwards. I parried one strike as I blocked another, sliding backwards out of their range again. Another rain thunked into my shield from the side, and I twisted to narrowly avoid a killing thrust at my flank, taking a slight gash along my right bottom rib instead. “Kinalla!” I bellowed.

Her head popped up over the embankment she was hiding behind, her eyes widened slightly at seeing the mass of people before me, and she turned, and ran.

I stared after her for a moment in sheer disbelief, then cursed, growling, and turned back to the men at hand. Feeling the rage and power boil through me, I stomped my hoof down, casting out a wave of destructive energy. Those closest cried out as the shockwave snapped bones and tossed them backwards like nothing so much as a ragdoll.

Then I turned and hopped over the embankment. My hooves sank slightly in the damp ground—it had recently rained—and I staggered for a moment, losing my balance. My shield fell away as I threw my arms out—and caught a Scarlet assailant as he tackled me. We went down hard, rolling across the ground. I slammed my forehead into his own, causing his grip to slacken for a moment. Kicking out with one leg, I gained enough space between us to reach down and grip my backup dagger and pull it free, slamming it into his stomach and jerking it up until it hit bone, then ripped it free with a grating sound as the steel slid over his ribcage.

He fell to the side moaning, and I scrambled to my feet. I saw Kinalla slam to a halt not far away, and her body begin glowing again as she conjured her magic within herself. Cursing, I reached down, grabbing the first sword that came to hand—it happened to be the Scarlet assailant's, and was heavier than my own, and longer. Wrapping both hands around the hilt I twisted to see two men hop over the embankment after me, and I slammed into them, cutting one completely in two with a ferocious swing.

The second tried to climb back up, but fully in the grip of rage, I grabbed his ankle, forcefully heaving him down, back into the mud. He screamed as I slammed the blade straight down through his body, pinning him to the earth. Then I was grabbing my sword, and racing after Kinalla.

She flew backwards just as I got to her, rolling across the ground. I looked up in surprise to see a Blood Elf standing there, an impish demon at his side, his hands crackling with flame. I glanced back to Kinalla, still laying sprawled on the ground, and the Monastery, with the enflamed guards swarming around where I had killed several. We weren't far away, but they were keeping their distance—content to let us be if we wouldn't try to invade.

I was fine with that. For now.

The Blood Elf waved his hand at me, and the imp attacked, casting a spiraling ball of flame. I jumped tot he side, but the ball smacked my shoulder regardless, twisting me in a full circle and putting me on my knees. I hissed as the flame licked at my exposed neck, burning it deeply. Then I was charging, closing the space between me and the warlock within a second. He jumped to the side, but the imp had only a second to look up in surprise before my sword came crashing downwards, cleaving the little demon neatly in two.

I turned back to the warlock just in time for a bolt of pure shadow energy to smash into my side. Pain wracked through me as I spun and went to a knee, but a sudden wash of holy energy washed through me, washing away the shadow's energy. I glanced over my shoulder to see Kinalla on her feet, a strange look on her face. It stayed there for a second more, before another bolt of shadow energy slammed into her chest, pitching her backwards to the ground once more. I roared and felt rage flow through me. I turned back to the warlock, only a step or two away, and launched myself at him.

Tackling him around the middle, we went down hard, rolling together. I smacked the pommel of my sword into his forehead, dazing him severely. Then I was on my feet, kicking him in the stomach as he tried to rise, flipping him over in the air. He cursed as the wind was driven from his lungs. Without the ability to even so much as utter a single syllable of a spell, his mouth worked soundlessly as I walked over to him, standing over him for a moment before my blade dropped, stabbing through his body and pinning him to the earth.

I sank to my knees then.

In the sudden void of battle, it was oddly quiet. I could hear shouts from the direction of the Monastery again, and realized that they wouldn't sit still for long. Eventually they would come after me, mustering their courage, telling themselves they were only going to face one single girl, what possible damage could I really do?

I pushed myself up, and staggered over to Kinalla's still-prone form. Her eyes were half-lidded, and she wasn't breathing. Cursing, I tilted my head to listen for breath, placing one hand on her neck to feel for a pulse. I detected neither. My tail slapped my thigh in agitation, and without really thinking I was re-positioning her neck to open her airway, and pressing my lips to hers to form an airtight seal, expelling the breath from my lungs into her own.

Then straightening up, I interlocked my fingers and placed the heel of my hand just so on her breastbone, and began compresses. Then another breath... she came to suddenly in the middle of the second breath, her eyes shooting open wide, her mouth opening wider under mine for a split moment, before I pulled back.

She coughed, rolling onto her side. I laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” I asked softly.

She coughed again. “Gods, no. I hurt. Everything.. hurts.” She coughed again, curling up into the fetal position.

I gritted my teeth, glancing again towards the Monastery. The shouts were getting louder. They would be getting organized any moment now. “We don't have time,” I whispered, more to myself than her, but then turned towards her, rolling her back onto her back, leaning over her. Her eyes narrowed as they gazed into my own, but not with anger. Something more like curiosity lurked in their depths now. “Get up,” I said, then stood myself, reaching down to help her to her feet. “We need to get out of here.”

“Why are you helping me so?” she demanded as she leaned on my arm. Her eyes flickered to the corpse of the warlock, not far off. “You killed him?”

I glanced over at it as well. “Yes. I had to. Kill or be killed.”

She grimaced as we began half-jogging to reach our mounts, not far off now. “More will come soon. If they find that, they will not stop when we ask them to politely.”

I shrugged. At the moment, members of the Horde were not high on my priority list. The mass of Scarlet Crusaders behind us, however, were.

“You didn't answer me,” she pointed out as we reached the small grove of trees where our mounts were hidden from sight.

I glanced over at her as she climbed into her saddle. She was getting her strength back, sending holy energy through her body to encourage herself to heal as she regathered her strength and focus. “Because I need you, and have to trust you with my life. How can I expect you to do the same with me if I leave you to die so easily?”

She stared at me in confusion for a moment, then I was in my own saddle, guiding the saber into an instant full-out run, in any direction other than back towards the monastery. She kept pace well, laying low on the back of her mount. We reached a larger grove of trees, some distance from both the Undercity and the Scarlet Monastery, and I lead us deep inside of it. There was a small pond inside, small enough to step over, but it was water, and appeared to be clear.

“I can cleanse it, Kinalla said, seeing me look at the water somewhat warily, and waved a glowing hand over the pond. “There. If it was poisoned or fouled, it is no longer. It is safe to drink.”

I nodded my thanks, hiding my wonder. It was the first time I had seen her offer any help at all. So far, she had been more like a difficult assignment rather than a questing companion. “That is good then. We can build a small fire here, we're far enough from them, they won't come out this far just to search for us.”

“How can you be sure?” she asked, but there was no sarcasm, no bitterness in her tone. Only genuine curiosity.

I shrugged my shoulders slightly. “Instincts, I suppose. It's not what I would do. We didn't actually breach the walls of the Monastery, we were merely on their grounds. While the Scarlet Crusade sees Scourge, and Scourge influence, everywhere they look, they won't be anxious to hunt down a pair of adventurers that left so many of their own dead and broken on their own ground. They will pretend we did not exist, and hope we never return.”

“But we will, right?”

I smiled slightly. “Yes, we will. Our mission is not complete. Perhaps tonight, when you have recovered, and I have had a chance to get some new gear from a local merchant, we can return.”

Kinalla moved around the pond and began stacking stones in a small ring for a fire pit. I watched for a moment, then gathered a few handfuls of dry wood laying about the small campsite and piled them within the stone circle. Kinalla held her hand out over it, and a small, miniature pillar of holy flame streaked downwards, and lit the small bundle aflame.

Pulling some provisions out of my mount's saddlebags, I tossed her a rabbit that we had caught earlier and were waiting to cook. She set out spitting it over the fire at once. Once she was done, and I was seated with my back to a tree, my arms resting on my knees propped up in front of me, she came around and knelt directly in front of me.

“Thank you, Nymuri,” she said, and her tone said she was genuine. “And I'm sorry. I doubted your conviction, your skills. I feared I was sent out here to be wasted, and I was resentful. I did not give you a chance to prove yourself, and for that... I do apologize. I tried... I wanted the Scarlet men earlier to kill you, so I could return and report failure.” She looked away, biting her lip. When she looked back, there were tears in her eyes. “If they had succeeded, we would both be dead now. You saved me, when I tried to doom you. I'm sorry. I know you can never forgive me, and I know you probably hate me, but I am very sorry.”

She finished with her head hanging. She was pretty, for a human, with black hair that was normally kept up in a semi-neat bun, a small heart-shaped face with amethyst eyes. She was slender, attractive, but now her hair was in disarray, her usually shimmering white gown dirty and torn, stained with mud and blood, there was dirt smudged on one cheek, and the tears had made a clean streak through the dust covering her on both cheeks.

I swallowed hard, and bit my own lip for a moment. I had guessed, inside, that had been her goal, to try to get me killed earlier when she had attacked so recklessly. My tail swished at my hip, and the soft tendrils behind my ears quivered, as they did whenever I was nervous.

“It's, um.” I paused and swallowed. “I do not hold it against you,” I finally managed. “In your shoes, I would have been suspicious as well. But I hope you can trust me, now, so we can do this.”

Kinalla nodded, once, rising her dirty sleeve to try to scrub away her tears.

I reached out, on instinct and caught her arm. “Here. I have some cloth,” I said, and turned to rummage in my pack. I brought out a few squares of silk that I had found. I had thought perhaps to make myself a dress with it. Something nice. It would be better than cutting it into strips for bandages, as I usually did, when out on my own. “Here, use some of these, and let's get cleaned up.”

I handed her a couple, then used my helm to dip some water from the pond. Setting it between us, we took turns dipping the cloth in the water and using it to scrub the dirt from our faces and hands. I noticed with a grimace the cloth in my hands came away more red than anything else—I had apparently gotten a lot more blood on me than I had realized.

“You look better,” Kinalla suddenly observed, and then her cheeks lit like red candles.

I smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. You look better clean, as well.” A mischievous mood suddenly took me, and I wrinkled my nose at her. “You would smell better with a bath, though.”

She stared at me for a moment in shock, then suddenly smiled. “Look who's talking,” she shot back. I merely smiled, and leaned back against my tree. It was quiet for a moment, until...

“Does it feel things?” Kinalla asked suddenly.

“What?” I asked, before realizing she was staring at my tail, which was curled around my hip, the tip of it laying casually on my thigh.

“Your tail. Does it... feel? Like, if I touch it, will you feel it?”

I laughed, unable to contain it. “If I touch your hand, do you feel it?” I replied.

Her cheeks flushed again. “I suppose. I just didn't realize that it was comparable to a hand.”

I flexed my tail, waving it in the air before letting it flop back to where it had been. “You don't even realize it's there, when you've grown up with it. It's just a part of who we are.”

“And the...” she trailed off, and pointed weakly at my ears. “Those.”

I shrugged slightly. “They're not moveable, in a sense. They.. move, but I can't like.. wiggle them, if that's what you mean.”

She shook her head. “I've seem them quiver, when you get mad, or, or like earlier...” she coughed suddenly. “I was just wondering if you feel with them as well.”

“Oh. Yes. They are quite sensitive,” I replied. “Lovers often use them as a means of stimulation,” I said nonchalantly, but she once again flamed red. I realized with a small start I liked to see her flush so with color. Draenei could blush, yes, but it was just a deepening of the color of one's face, not this vibrant red like hers.

“I see,” she murmured. “You come from a much freer society than my own,” she murmured.

This took me by surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Humans... we all like things. Certain things, but no one talks about them. Like you just did, with your...” she trailed off once more.

“Call them braids, if it helps,” I said, trying to be helpful. Once, in a human village, I had mentioned my tendrils, and a human male had went pale in the face and refused to look at me again until I called them braids, to correct myself. Thinking back over that, I decided she was probably right. Draenei had a more open relationship—we had to. We lived close together, more so than humans. We were essentially social creatures, so therefore sex was socially acceptable as a topic of conversation.

I just hadn't had any reason to discuss it for so long.. I hadn't even thought of sex in what seemed like years, when it was truly only a few weeks.

“Braids, then,” she said, with a small smile. “That does help, actually. I'm somewhat jealous, I admit.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Other Draenei girls that come to Stormwind, I've never actually met any before, only seem them at a distance. They.. flaunt themselves, to some degree. And men, they're so disgusting, they follow them around, throw gold at them to dance, or come with them to their homes. These girls, they take it all in stride, and honestly, seem to thrive on the attention.”

Inwardly, I couldn't blame them. Not at all. Most of our women were attractive. There were some, like there were in any race, that were not so beautiful, or not so perfectly thin, but we were genetically speaking, superior to at least the humans, and so therefore, had a higher average of attractive women. At the Exodar, sex was a constant presence; men and women, or women and women, were constantly engaging in sexual acts. It was a way to express life and freedom to do as one wished, that we were not controlled by our circumstances but rather ruled over our own lives.

“Most girls were raised on that,” I said softly. “To them, it is only normal. What seems to you like such barbarism is to us normality.”

“And the... other?”

“Other?”

“The... ones that prefer women. I've seen them as well. They pretend as if the men don't exist, and only talk to other women. Sometimes they ignore the humans and only talk to other Draenei as well.”

I licked my lips before replying. My “braids” were quivering very slightly, and the tip of my tail began to sway just a bit as well. “It is a common view among us that love between man and woman is different than any other love. While it is common, it is less common that this view be used in practice. Usually, this sentiment is ignored. Sex is sex. But to some, they hold to it, and only have sex with whoever they marry, or mate, or whatever they want to call it. It is one and the same to the Naaru. For it is from them that this view comes. Being here, on Azeroth, has caused an increase among those ignoring this view.

“For a time, those that believed held it to regard ALL love, regardless of gender. Since then that has diminished, at least for us women. We are a hypocritical society, but I base that upon the simple fact that we are, as a race, ruled more by the female gender than the male. Our puppetheads of authority are male—the real powers you do not see are female. So it has come to be that women frequently mate with one another, as well. It is common, it is accepted, and most of the men even enjoy it. They seem to find little interest in one another, but sometimes they do, and when they are caught practicing it, they are not disciplined, but they lose social standing in the sight of the rest. It is a frowned upon practice, but it still exists.”

Kinalla simply stared at me for a few moments. “I see,” she finally said. “I suppose there's a lot about this I did not know.”

I offered her a reassuring smile. “It is good you ask then, for it is always good to know more, yes?”

She smiled back, and nodded. “Yes, of course.”

I rose slowly, and glanced at the cooking rabbit. “I will be back shortly. I must head over to Chillwind Camp, for it's close to here. I can get a new shield and sword from there, I'm sure. The Argent Dawn have no love for the Scarlet Crusade in particular that I'm aware of, and I've worked for them a bit in the past. They will be willing to help arm us, I'm positive. I'll head there, and return before dark. You should eat, and get some sleep, to recover fully. Tonight we will strike at the Monastery again.”

She nodded, and watched me go. And as I did, I couldn't stop but thinking about her mouth, the way it had felt under mine earlier, the small hint of her tongue touching my lips as she gasped in breath as she came to. I shook such thoughts from my head—now was definitely not the time to grow distracted by a pretty face.

* * * *

Kinalla watched Nymuri depart with a nervous pit in the center of her body. She had been so sure about the Draenei up until a few hours ago, now she wasn't sure what she felt. Gratitude of course. The warrior had saved her life, and Kinalla would never forget it. But why was the thought of the white-silver skinned Draenei's body lingering in her mind?

She had woken to see Nymuri less than an inch away, and her very first impulse had been to kiss her. The very first thought in her head had been “Kiss her!” and she still had not recovered from that. She had even started doing such, until she realized, and stopped herself. Not that the girl was ugly—far from it. Nymuri, instead of being much taller than herself, was perhaps just a touch shorter than she was, something that had taken her by surprise at first—especially now, having seen her ferocity in combat.

But her face, with the silver glowing eyes, the hint of a darker iris lurking within the depths, her dark blue, nearly black hair hanging down over the left side of her face, draped around her horns which laid back against her skull before turning up just slightly at the tips, her narrow curvaceous form, the arc of her back, the rise of her bottom, the spike of her short tail above that... the image of her would not be banished.

She leaned forward and slowly took a piece of the rabbit meat. She was afraid of what she had learned from the girl as well. Such an open society... would Nym expect the same from Kinalla herself? And if she did, would she be able to say no? There was something intriguing here, something that was pinning her attention to her solidly. Biting into the meat, she forecfully objected Nymuri from her mind, and settled in to eat her fill before falling asleep in preparation for the upcoming battle.

* * * *