<74> Lyrah's eyes dropped to the ground in quiet contemplation for a long moment before she found her words. "You must swear that neither you, nor the rest of the Grimtotem tribe, will bring harm to any other tauren before your death if you want me to take this vow. No exceptions." Drenan's jaw nearly hit the ground. "Lyrah, you cannot be seriously considering this!" Lyrah looked to her father with confidence. "It's okay, dad. Trust me, okay?" It took Drenan a great deal of self-restraint not to protest. A gravelly sigh of resignation escaped him before quietly adding, "I do." Magatha nodded slowly. "Fine. Agreed." Her aged hand slowly reached out toward Lyrah, taking hold of the chocolate-furred tauren's hand in a surprisingly cold and tight grip. "Before the elements I, Magatha Grimtotem, vow to spare any and all tauren from my wrath, and the wrath of my tribe until my death, in exchange for the promise that Lyrah Lighthand take up my position as head of the Grimtotem tribe in my place from that day onward. Do you accept, Lyrah?" Lyrah gave a sharp nod without hesitation. "I accept." From beneath their intertwined hands, a tendril of earth sprung upward to bind their hands, fire trailing its length while a column of swirling water and wind shot down from the sky in turn. All four elements swirled about their joined hands for a fleeting moment before disappearing in a flash of light... along with Magatha. All she left behind was a menacing, witch-like cackle that echoed through the air in her wake. Talla, who had quietly been observing the tense exchange, wasted no time in rushing up behind Lyrah, her hands going to her friend's shoulders in concern. "Lyrah, are you okay? Was... was that wise?" Lyrah returned with a half-smile. "No one's gonna get hurt. I'd call that a win, hmm?" "But... the Grimtotem...." Talla's ears drooped sadly. "It's okay," Lyrah assured her and pulled her into a firm embrace. "I'll be okay. We all will. The remaining tauren at Freewind Post need to know what's going on though. You should go back and tell them what happened, but... maybe just tell 'em we talked Magatha out of pressing the attack, okay? They don't need to know why." Talla drew back to arm's length and looked at her friend in confusion. "You're not coming back with me?" Lyrah frowned. "I... don't think it'd be a good idea after all of this. If they got wind that I had any ties at all with the Grimtotem...." She let the thought hang empty in the air. Talla gave a reluctant nod. "Alright... I can do that." She gave her friend another tight hug before turning to regard Drenan with a more formal handshake. "Will... will I get to see you guys again soon? Where are you headed next?" Drenan softly squeezed her hand... only to gently pull her into a soft hug as he mustered up a slight smile. "Somewhere more peaceful, hopefully. We have not had much luck finding a new, proper home just yet. The south may have more promise, but we shall see." Talla returned a slight smile of her own as she returned the gesture and stepped back. "Okay. I wish I could go with you guys... but the tribes out here need my help more." From within her disguise, the snow-furred tauren pulled out a small, jingling pouch and pushed it into Lyrah's hand rather firmly. "Those at the Post will compensate me for this, so I want you two to have the rest of my gold. It's not much, but it might get you a few nights in Gadgetzan or something. I know you guys are low on money, so just... just don't be modest and take it, okay? Take care, both of you." Lyrah's cheeks flushed as she reluctantly accepted the coin and offered Talla a genuinely appreciative smile. "We will." A final nod was exchanged between the three of them before Talla turned and made her way back out the Northern edge of the camp, while Drenan and Lyrah headed quickly beyond the camp's eastern edge and beyond. Once out of sight of the camp, the both of them gladly shed much of their cultist garb, save for a few strips of cloth to cover their modesty, and continued along the high cliffs. An uncomfortable silence settled in between the normally chatty tauren couple. Neither of them so much as made eye contact with the other, nor would their hooves allow them to stop walking. The weight of Lyrah's decision had apparently fallen directly on their own throats, and during their walk the daylight fled to shift to night, then right back into day the further southward they went. They had no equipment or possessions to allow them to camp, and to stop and sleep out in the open along the high cliffs above the submerged salt flats was out of the question. There was no safety in sight. Their steady path took a sharp turn southward as the cliff threatened to drop them into the encroaching sea, the new path leading steadily downward until the pair found themselves in a small canyon of sorts. The both of them were more than happy to put the conflict-ridden Thousand Needles behind them, though it was anybody's guess as to whether Tanaris would serve them any better. The narrow canyon opened wide to the wide expanse of golden sand that covered the desert landscape. Whistling winds whipped up whirlwinds here and there, but thankfully they hadn't walked right into a fresh sandstorm. The heat seemed to intensify the moment they'd crossed into the new region, but to their good fortune a sizeable little city had been established just a few hundred yards from the canyon's mouth. Gadgetzan was a well-known and heavily-contested city between the goblins and gnomes, though for the most part the goblin-run Steamwheedle Cartel kept the locale neutral for the Alliance and Horde to utilize when necessary. The sanctuary was almost a necessity for anyone who dared cross the desert on foot, and both tauren were thankful to step into the city as night began to fall over the landscape. Neither exchanged a word, but both quickly made for the local inn to purchase a room for the evening. The inn's rooms were built entirely underground, and consequently their small, albeit tauren-sized, room was devoid of windows. A sizeable, two-person bed atop a lavish rug sat against one wall with a few sconces flooding the room in flickering, orange light. It wasn't until Drenan locked the door behind them, and the two plopped down on the bed in exhaustion, that Lyrah finally spoke. "So... how mad at me are you?"