Faces Have Come and Gone

Faces Have Come and Gone...
 * -by Zuelazee

As the sun set into the sea from the Jungle sky, a lone Troll Shaman sat, unusually, upon the sea's surface. Her view lightly danced along the water's surface, as she began to gaze into the Jungle, at what was once her homeland; listening to it's savages sounds and feeling it's tropical air, with minute interest. Stranglethorn Vale was home, at one time; despite the Darkspears' exile, it still felt like home.  Her thoughts wandered erradically through her mind about her past and present. Perhaps, a little too erradic for her own liking, she fidgetted with herself a bit, trying to find that calmness within her again; anything to help clear the muddiness of her mind. She stood up and thumbed another small vial of fish oil, calling upon the spirits known to Shaman. Sitting back down, she dipped her hand into the water, and watched the small ripples...  Faces have come and gone, in what seemed such a short time to her.  It seemed so long ago, when she first took up training for the Horde in Durotar. She remembered the first time she stood before Vol'jin, as Thrall gave her the orders to do their bidding. "For The Horde" was the cry. Their tasks to took her to many places from that point; the Barrens, Mulgore, Ashenvale, Stonetalon, Thousand Needles.  A smile played upon her lips as a face developed under mind's eye. Thousand Needles was where they had met. Funny how one small heal could be the start of something beautiful. She, then, frowned as the image faded...  Faces have come and gone, in what seemed such a short time to her.  "He was busy," she spoke outloud, startling herself with her own words. The words spoke volumes to her, to the point she had to shake them off; for they held truth to even herself.  She had gone to many more places than that. Stranglethorn Vale, where she had to slay her own kind. Arathi Highlands, Swamp of Sorrows, Hillsbrad, Feralas, The Hinterlands; again the image coming back into view of another time with...  <BR>She shook her head violently to rid herself of the image. "He was busy!" she exclaimed, as if trying to convince someone who did not want to be convinced. "And, now he's gone," she answered more softly with sadness. <BR> <BR>She stood up and thumbed another vial of fish oil, calling upon the same spirits again. Sitting down in a huff, she chastised herself internally for being weak. She remembered her Tauran Shaman mentors, and nodded of their disapproval of her inability to remain focused. Dipping her hand in water, she seeked the calming sootheness of the ripples. <BR> <BR>Faces have come and gone, in what seemed such a short time to her. <BR> <BR>The Hinterlands, she mused to herself, a place of such beauty. She loved the smell of the crisp pine almost as much as she loved the heavy warmth of "Home". The drums from the Revantusk Village also had their appeal. <BR> <BR>Another face came to her mind's eye. Her shoulders slumped, as if defeated. "He's gone too." Quietly, she cried with her face in her hands, this pain was so much fresher than the other. Faces and feelings coursed through her mind at an alarming rate. Friends who have come and gone; promises of those who may come back; confirmations of those who won't. <BR> <BR>She had not noticed the light rain that had begun to fall, as she cried. <BR> <BR>Lovers, they were the hardest to confront, for each held a piece of her heart. They had both left, each one tearing their piece from her when they left; leaving an empty space. A space to crawl into, when even with 19 to 39 people standing by her side, she still felt alone. <BR> <BR>The rain fell heavier, as if to reflect her tears of frustraton. It wasn't until her spell wore off, causing her to fall into the sea, that she finally snapped out it. She slapped the water's surface in frustration. "Stupid fool," she called herself. She, then fumbled for the fish scales within her pack. Calling forth spirits, slightly different before; she dived deeper within the sea. She knew her time would be limited beneath the surface, but she had enough scales for a while at least. Settling upon the bottom, she could hear the murlocs in the distance. Their sounds disgusted her. She silently cursed them, for what their kind had done to her own, wretched things. <BR> <BR>There was no ripple here to bring order to her thoughts. She concentrated on the swaying of the sea grass and strangle kelp in the current. She crawled within the holes of her heart to find peace for her emotions. She wondered how the loves of her life could make such an impact on her, when there was so much more to her. The first one she had come to terms with long ago; the rememberance of him confused her. The latter, she could still feel the sharp blade chiseling out the hole within her heart, the scent of blood remaining in her nostrils and mouth. Realizing she was clutching her chest, she looked down upon her hands, as if to see blood on them, but there was none. She looked back upon the sea grass and strangle kelp. <BR> <BR>Faces have come and gone, in what seemed such a short time to her. <BR> <BR>Fingering a second fish scale, she called upon the spirits again. She concentrated sternly on the nothingness of the swaying grasses beneath the sea. <BR> <BR>Her thoughts carried on to those of her Clan, the ones who took her in. A fun lot they are, most of the time; very close to one another, enough to call family. She could hear their words from far away, though they were silent currently. "Probably busy or meditating," she mused to herself under her mind's eye. Unfortunately, her family has not been untouched by the comings and goings of others. "We've lost a few of our own, throughout the passage of time; we've also gained new members," she thought purposely. She also reminded herself that other clans have gone through the same shifting of tides, with a slight nod. "We all still have much to do, many things to experience, to see....together," she tried to think positively. <BR> <BR>With a sigh of mental exhaustion, the Troll shaman swam to the surface. She noticed the Zeppelin from Durotar above her. "It'll be at Grom'Gol soon," she whispered out loud. "I have a lot of herbs to pick, as usual," she thought to herself. With another vial of fish oil and calling of the spirits, she was trotting along the water's surface in no time. <BR> <BR>"Why didn't I remember to reset my hearth to Orgrimmar?!"