By the light of the moon, under the boughs of an old dying tree, sat a Shaman putting the final touches on a sketch. The black fur of her right hand was dusted white with chalk, and her dark eyes held a firm concentration as she bent over small piece of slate and continued to make changes.
The sketch in question was a likeness, no doubt. There were horns, covered by a rather jaunty hat; broad shoulders covered in rolled up shirt-sleeves and a waistcoat. Twin swords hung at the sides of the sketch, larger and broader than the subject’s pant covered legs. Additionally, arriving at about the likeness’ knee was a small yeti-ish creature. The sketch was painstakingly labeled with colors: fur – black; hat – blue; shirt – white; waistcoat and pants – grey; swords – steel; yeti creature – white.
The black-furred Tauren stood slowly in the moonlight, her back to a small lean-to shelter housing her armor and identical axes. She stood in cloth pants and her well-worn bandages, feeling much more at ease, and looking much more the part; Honani Grimtotem threw a long braid over her shoulder as she held up the drawing for a final inspection in better light. Nodding twice, she attached a note carefully to its front, tying it twice with string and covering it in brown paper.
Special delivery to her Elders the Stonetalon Mountains - a hefty jaunt as the wolf runs.
As methodically as she’d wrapped the package, the Shaman donned her Northrend Horde-issued armor and Horde insignias; she tore down the lean-to, hiding it under the brush. She walked a ways from the tree, toward the Goblin port town. When the sea-breeze could be felt on her tongue and the docks could be seen, Honani drew in a quick breath, muttering an incantation.
The Ghost Wolf took the road from Ratchet.
She would make two stops. One to help fight off an Alliance attack at the Crossroads. The second to aid an elf-Paladin overcome by centaur. One cannot blow one’s cover, no matter how important the mission.
One who does not spend one’s life in constant preparation for the worst is destined to die a surprised man.