Feral Familarity

Two months ago...

The swamp has always been a place of wild things. Nature ruled here, and it did so with a fist of fang and claw and venom. Within its deep shadows, the remnants of nightmares stalked their prey. From within the black, two disembodied emerald points appeared; fixed on an intruder into this domain of the wild...

Roarke stumbled blindly ahead, literally. He had come here to cultivate the lucrative blindweed but an accidental slip had given him an unfortunate lesson in the source of the herb's name. If he could just make it out of the swamp then he was sure he could find some way to restore his sight... Well, a priestess might be able to remove this malady, but could he tolerate the embarrassment? In either case, he was stuck in the middle of the swamp with all the world turned to darkness. He tried to navigate by the cacophony of sounds and the various odors coming to his nose, but all to often he found himself walking into trees and puddles or stumbling over a fallen log. He'd been walking forever now and had to admit to himself that he was throughly lost.

The emerald eyes watched the blind hunter curiously and the echoes of thoughts formed behind them. tall two-legs... lost...    The eyes flicked forward to see what lay in the stumbling Kal'dorei's path. longtooth... She could sit and watch the white-topped two-legs step into the waiting maw of the giant lizard. No reason for her to get involved... She didn't need meat. As she watched the night elf making his way into a meal, she began to move. Had her mind been capable of registering surprise at her actions, then it likely would have. It began with a low growl that slithered and rumbled through the air...

Roarke paused mid-step as the sound reached his ears. Had he come across some creature? Could he hide? Could he fight? What sort of creature was it? The growling faded away after a few moments but he stayed still, foot hovering above the ground. A short while afterwards there was an explosion of snarling and thrashing just a few yards from him. Something wet splashed on his face and he lost his balance and fell backwards, fumbling for his weapon.

The fight was savage, as all fights of tooth and claw. A deep red wound oozed on her shoulder where the Longtooth's fang had found her flesh, but it was the Longtooth who's life's blood had leaked out first. Her jaw was covered in it and she limped as she padded over in silence to gaze eye-to-eye with the fallen two-legs. Something in the back of her mind registered familiarity... about its form? it's scent? She leaned forward and sniffed at it. It did not smell of the swamp... The two-legs jumped as her hot red tongue brushed against him. She would see him safely from here. He didn't belong.