Lady Gelana runs, hooves beating loudly against the dry ground.
Where did he get to, always racing off without his field Medic, honestly this warrior has proved to be stubborn thus far.
“Gerrond where are you?”
Silence greets her shout and she stands listening for a moment before plunging through a bush onto the edge of a road.
Two Alliance race past towards the sound of steel on steel, so she follows them.
Sure enough there he is, surrounded by murderous Horde forces, taking them all on alone.
Gelana sighs and opens to the Light, sending a stream of healing to the man.
The day they met he had been in Stormwind, sitting astride his bird.
She was leaving to collect plant samples when he called her back with an,
“Excuse me Miss.”
Idle chatter followed then they parted to go their separate ways.
Something hits Gelana on the back of her head, stunning her.
Blades flash with lightening speed, making shallow wounds between her shoulders.
The stunned feeling fades and she lashes out with her hoof, catching the attacker in the softest place she can find.
Opening to the Light she gives herself healing before sending it towards Gerrond again.
Then out of nowhere he had contacted her, asking for help, a simple meeting and she accepted his proposal to form a battle group.
So far it was proving a good union, he had knowledge and experience while she had only her willingness to learn.
A Warlock lets loose with his dark power, fearing everything away in a desperate attempt to protect himself.
Gerrond moves fast as soon as the fear wears off, and the Warlock joins the pile of bodies strewn around the flag post.
He is very good at what he does, his training making him powerful in battle. The man is well known, his reputation is known by both Horde and Alliance alike. In time his name will be whispered on the lips of Mothers, trying to frighten naughty young into behaving.
Gelana stands glowing in the warmth of the valley, breathing heavily from the effort of keeping them both alive long enough for him to beat down all attackers.
With a cry victory is announced and they leave the battle ground, heading to Goldshire for a welcome drink.
The crackle of the fire is relaxing after the sounds on the battle field and she sips her water slowly, savouring each sip.
He asks her if she will enter the Arena with him, a challenge like no other.
Silence greets his request as she thinks about it, about what it means for her.
Finally looking him in the eye she slowly nods her head, long white hair tickling her shoulders as she does.
His reply is predictable,
The deal is locked and her training is to begin, she has hard work ahead of her to be ready in time for the glory of the blood circle.
Rolling her shoulders against the pull of the small wounds in her back she smiles at him.
She rarely smiles, but for this occasion, it is justified.