Chapter Text
She crouched under the thick foliage and waited for the one-horned ogres to pass. The recently set darkness helped in staying hidden, and neither moon had yet risen, only the countless stars populated the night sky. But it was still too hot, and she was sweating. Even in her stealthed feline form they might spot her, either by smell or her accidentally stepping on a stick in her weariness. The big humanoids were so much mightier than she was, and they had sentry totems all around the area.
Nothing to see here, just another local panther, carry on.
It had been a long week. Laya knew she should have taken a break already when she started feeling overworked yesterday. She was used to long, deep, and most importantly regular intervals of rest back home or when studying in Moonglade, but in her enthusiasm it was the first thing she forgot on a journey abroad without a daily routine. And then she had finally chanced on the elusive prey that the wacky dwarf had promised a reward for. She couldn’t resist, even when she knew the fight would drain the last of her powers.
She had not succeeded, and only melding into shadows at an opportune moment had she saved herself from becoming the raptor’s next meal. She had no other option than to return to the Expedition’s Camp to rest.
Her exhaustion was intensified by what she called a moral headache: the frustrating knowledge that her economic survival depended on abandoning some of her principles. She hated killing animals, cats in particular, but a hero has to eat and all that. One day she would be well-known, powerful, and better dressed, and then she could choose which assignments she would be bothered to accept. The big heroes got paid better too, she had heard.
Backpack bulging with herbs, sticks, tiger teeth, pieces of looted cloth, she was now attempting to get to the main road by crossing the Mosh’Ogg lands. There was a shorter way, but she was trying to avoid bumping into any Horde members. They had a base somewhere here, but she was still so new to the area she couldn’t remember the exact location. The endless jungle of Stranglethorn was so full of dangerous animals and humanoids that it required constant alertness and fighting to merely pass through the area. She now wished she had taken longer naps, but everything was so exciting and scary she had hardly closed her eyes until it was time to go adventuring again. Now her serious, sensible plan was to either find a place to hide and sleep, or hitch-hike on some wealthier adventurer’s saddle if she caught any who was nice enough. Or cute.
The thought of taking a nap against the warm back of a horse or a sabercat felt heavenly. One day, one day she would also have a mount of her own.
As she finally snuck out of the Mosh’Ogg territory, her relief was turned into yet another sigh of frustration. How can there be this many troll tribes? she cursed inwardly. She had been wise enough to steer clear from the huge ancient city of Zul’Gurub to the east, but she had gotten lost and wandered into the ogre zone. And now, more trolls. She had killed many of them during the week. Stupid, uncivilized, violent aberrations of nature if anyone asked her. They always seemed so excited to see her, a night elf girl, thinking her an easy target, no doubt. Their gleaming eyes always turned angrier when she shapeshifted into a cat and started ripping them.
The only good thing about trolls was she could hold her own with them in a fight.
So, these had blue hair so they must be Skullsplitters. The Bloodscalp tribe to the west wore their hair red, probably for easy recognition during battle. You wouldn’t want to bash your cousin’s head in by accident.
By Elune’s angry tits, she swore. They have hunting animals! Pets were able to detect through her stealth. Laya tried to back down from the ruins but found that she was cornered. Another blue-haired hunter was grinning behind her, sending his panther towards their prey.
She would have to run, yet again.
Swiping the two cats aside with her sharp claws and tossing a hurried rooting spell to slow them down she tried to dash away from the impossible situation. She could hardly take them all, and they would alert more troops to the slaughter of a lone druid.
When she felt an arrow with a slowing poison pierce her side her fool’s courage faltered.
I take it back, Goddess. I won’t blaspheme any part of you ever again. Please don’t let me die.
Forked lightning struck straight to the mob of trolls and their pets. By now there were five of them, and three fell immediately. One ran off, terrified. One, a stupid one, started shooting at whoever had attacked them (with obviously superior powers). Laya cowed low, hoping she wouldn’t be the next.
She didn’t understand what the Skullsplitter was yelling, or what the calm, snide voice behind her was answering to the soon to be late idiot. It sounded like he was given a chance to leave unharmed. He didn’t take it. A burst of Fire finished the conversation.
A tall troll, the one who had saved her albeit temporarily, crouched in front of Laya. He also had blue hair, some Kingsblood red mixed into it, but his embroidered robe distinguished him from the Skullsplitters. His tusks were thick and long, and she felt a shiver seeing up close how they protruded from between his lips. How are they able to eat, let alone do anything more complicated? His red eyes looked intelligent and playful, which only showed how terribly tired she must be. Hallucinating, am I? There’s no such thing as a smart troll.
When he reached a huge hand towards her, she revealed her teeth and hissed, hoping for his previously shown diplomacy to extend to inexperienced Alliance heroes.
”Leave me alone, you filthy troll! I’m not a pet to be tamed!”
The troll lifted an eyebrow as if she were a silly little kid kicking against the inevitable rule of a father. That got her blood boiling, and with her last strength she leaped at him.
The wrestle was short and eventful. Pressing against his tall, strong body, even with violent feline intentions, she felt her long-dormant sensual urges stir. In her animal form she could smell his masculine scent so much clearer than she usually would. She tried to distract herself by aiming to sink her fangs into his flesh, but to her annoyance the troll kept her off easily while they rolled in the short grass. He didn’t show any signs of fear, merely laughed at her attempts heartily. She found that his low rumbling voice was another… irritant to be absolutely denied had any effect on her. He cast some spell unknown to Laya that made her go all limp, and with swift, practiced movements he had her paws tied up before she could meow.
I am so not going to change back. Better stay as a feral cat than reveal her identity and face.
Southeast, up a grassy slope, behind a small mound there was a hut, hidden by trees and the hills around it. Humming a tune under his breath the shaman dragged Laya on a makeshift stretcher without any hurry in his languid steps until he reached a pair of small totems she figured were for his home’s protection. He disabled them and took her inside the building… and into a small tiger cage within. She kicked and clawed weakly but to no avail.
”Are you seriously this stupid? I’m not an animal! You can hear me speak even if you don’t understand…” She was so tired, so utterly finished, and for some defeatist reason her body seemed to have decided that this enemy household was the safest place she’d been to in a week, therefore shutting down any unnecessary function and making her irresistibly sleepy. When she was secured inside the cage, she felt him untie the binds off her furry wrists and ankles.
”Don’t eat me, troll… while I rest… I want to be there when I die…”
With that noble declaration she flumped onto the floor and slept. The low chuckle she heard mixed into the first dream that claimed her.
The shaman watched the cat-formed druid fall asleep like she had lost all her strength in that exact moment. The mana stream she emitted told him more of her than the animal form allowed for the eye. Thoughtful, he sat on his cot and made a list of herbs to collect on the morrow.
A movement caught his eye and glancing back at the cage floor he saw her shapeshifting magic had faded.
Green hair, green markings, barefooted, hot-headed. A typical young druid.
Would be cute too if it weren’t for those uncanny glowing night elf eyes.