Imprint of Colorful Souls

He is my Guardian Spirit. Yup, I sure knew it when I heard his low and resonant voice interrupt my concentration, before I even turned around to see the shape he had chosen to greet me in. Mind you, I am but a simple druid, nothing sacred or special about me. I was born as basic as we get, average in nearly every way, except for one small thing. But gosh, I am getting far too ahead of myself to keep up here!

Lemme see - I s’ppose it all began for me with my Uncle Tate raising me along his wanderin' way. Never much knew my parents; heard tales of them headin’ off for those ultimate greener pastures when a blazing bolt from the clouds hit the camp and burnt it all to the ground. I was still just a wobbly-kneed calf. Uncle Tate, oddly ‘nough, was a tauren of very few words. His name contradicts his life, meaning in my patch of grasslands "One who talks too much". It was through his patient teachin’s I learned both how to shut my mouth and listen as he did, and also how to fill the silence with chatter, as he did not – and why I am prone to either at the drop of an ironfeather. Although he was the quiet type, he had some kinda skill with intuition and built a decent enough existence out of healin’ and channelin’ his more primitive emotions. After wanderin' for so long, we set up our last camp in the grassy hills just outside Mulgore and that was the longest we'd sat put in one place ever.

Well now, it was Uncle Tate who taught me all the forms my soul might take. He sent me into Bloodhoof Village with a list of chores high enough to fill a totem pole. Before shoving me out the door he sat with me on a bluff overlookin’ the grasslands in all its sun-slanted glory late one afternoon. We watched the birds circle overhead endlessly and he told me then, he was longin’ to fly free from the stresses of the farm and his creaky joints. That was the last I saw of him in druid form - for he, too, began grazin' from those greener pastures shortly after I left for the Village. I received his last wise words in a letter he had sent to me, knowing his own destiny:

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Fret not, my dear Miacoda. Your Guardian Spirit will look after you. You are strong in the right ways and tender in the best. Always listen to both what is being said, and not said, and you will do fine. Look to the skies now; I fly free and endlessly.

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That evening as I fell asleep at the Inn, on the upper deck of the top floor out and under the silvery moon, I dreamed of Uncle Tate circling above. He had finally found his peace and he spoke in communion with the Elders, those glimmerin’ stars in the night sky. One of the voices was my Guardian Spirit, the one I called Alo (my folks' dialect for "Spiritual Guide").

I stayed on in the Village learning to work with hides for a living. I had to find a new life for myself somehow and Alo’s voice whispered to me in my mind as I found my new ways. His was the sense of rightness in my soul that led me to seek my true path and brought me eventually to Thunder Bluff. The trainer there said I needed to complete a test of my own skills as a Druid. I traveled to a place of such peace I have never known. A large lake surrounded by fresh greenness and nature, the air itself was full of serenity that seeped into my skin. Uncle Tate used to tell me to "go to my happy place" when I was fretful. I know now where he meant, because Moonglade was everythin’ and more I coulda dreamed of.

The knowledgeable creature who was givin’ me instructions to go meet the Great Spirit by the lake was filling my mind with images and instructions. This wordless communion was quite new to me and I had to listen as Uncle Tate said, with my whole soul. That was the moment Aloaki revealed himself to me. His voice was my Alo, my very real and tangible Guardian Spirit! I turned with surprise and joy, hearing his low growling voice. Turns out, Aloaki means "sacred" in Taurahe, so I guess I oughta call him my "sacred spirit", but I kinda like "guardian" better. Sacred in my mind is some untouchable idol, while guardian lights the path with guidance and patience. And speakin' of patient, if I thought Uncle Tate was, he had nothing on Aloaki.

I do admit I have a headstrong way about me. I guess you could say I heard it more than a few times I coulda been a bull. I get an idea in my mind and sometimes only trippin’ over my own hooves will show me the error of my ways. It’s a good thing I have Aloaki lookin’ after me, right? One day he did start me in a direction, but then he told me it was MY learning to be had, not his, and he let me lead the way. Do ya even need to ask if I got lost? Yup, seems he was talkin’ to thin air at one point when I got so excited I ran off in the direction he was pointing at. I finally found my way back to him sittin’ casually on the ground, smiling and waiting for me to admit I was lost. I hung my head low fessin’ up to that, too. Gotta give him credit - his tail was not even twitchin’ in irritation.

After completin’ my tasks I was surprised once again when I first learned my shape of bear. The day had been long and adventurous and I really was tired and ready for a good bowl of stew next to a fire. My tummy was growlin’ when I spoke to the trainer back in Thunder Bluff before he released me to go on home. I can’t even begin to tell yah my shock when that grumpy hungry growling feeling turned me into a downright bear! Aloaki had stuck around jus’ long enough to watch, knowin’ I had grown in spirit that day. Hungry or not, I danced on my bear feet with fierce joy that night before lying down under the moon again. While I love the intensity of my bear self, it was a comfort to get back to my slow ploddin’ ways as a Tauren. Makes it easier to get to sleep, ya know.

That night I practiced talking with Aloaki in my mind in the spirit way. I told him of the sight I sometimes get from other beings. It’s like this – I’ll just say it: I see colors around folks. I know, I know, sounds like a lot of boarwash. Folks don’t like being bared sometimes, and that’s ok, I learned to look the other way so they don’t get mad. Others hide their true colors and sometimes I just can’t be seeing a thing. I told Aloaki that I saw mostly orange around him, with specks of yellow and some dark blue too. The orange is for his love of all things feral, where his comforts lie. The yellow is unsettling with Orcish nature somehow. And deep blue is for a sadness of a lost love. He tries to hide that part but the flecks shimmer when he’s starin’ off into the distance. Aloaki seemed intrigued with me this way, though it’s really nothin’ special, ya know. He left me that night with a message to come if I could to a clan gathering of some of the more colorful souls in the land. I made a note to attend this gathering and if it’s anything close to what he told me, I expect I’ll be back, needing to record the things I see.