<1> Despite Tanaris mostly being known for its dragons and danger, the recent attacks on Uldum caused most of Azeroth's beachgoers to flock to the zone's Southeastern fringes to enjoy themselves in relative peace. The beaches themselves were warm almost year round, and as such a good throng of various members of both the Horde and the Alliance were there today, albeit on somewhat segregated sections of the lengthy beaches. The sun neared high noon as a group of Mag'har grunts stepped onto the beaches, however within moments, all but one had scattered into the throng to leave the last with a look of frustration on his face. "Dickheads," he grunted and spat on the sand. One hand reached up to run over his dark brown-skinned, hairless head as he scanned the throng, finding himself much less inclined to be there without his cohorts. The muscular male let out a frustrated sigh as he began to stride Westward along the beach in search of a quiet, secluded spot. The further he walked, the fewer patrons dotted the beach, and eventually the stretch of sand grew completely empty. That is, until a far off cry met his ear. "You little bastards! Get the fuck back here and get me outta here! Help!" The Mag'har's brow perked up as he quickened his pace down the beach, and it wasn't long before he found the source of the cries. The half-buried head of a woman appeared within sight, but the closer he got, the more apparent it became that she wasn't exactly... alive, per se. Her eyes glowed a vibrant yellow, and her skin was an incredibly pale gray for being on a beach. Her lips were a much darker gray, though they were drawn quite thin due to the angry look on her face. The orc slowed his pace as he approached. "Uh... everything alright, miss?" The forsaken's anger melted into relief as she caught sight of the orc. "Oh thank fuck, can you [i]please[/i] get me out of here? I've got more sand in my ass right now than I did when I was six feet under." The orc wasted no time in dropping to his knees and powerfully plunging both arms into the sand near her head, much to the forsaken's relief. "Ugh, [i]thank[/i] you, truly. I've been stuck here for the past twenty minutes. Couple of little human punks jumped me in my nap and buried me." The orc's hands sifted gruffly through the sand, until something surprisingly soft met his hands. "Uh... so-" "No, no, just grab 'em," she insisted curtly. "Anything to get me out. I promise, I'm pretty light." A sharp exhale escaped him as he nodded in agreement, and both hands carefully slid around the pair of pillowy mounds he'd discovered to grip them tightly. Focusing on the sand, the orc hadn't noticed the blush in her cheeks, nor the bite of her lip as he pulled sharply upward. True to her word, it didn't take all that much strength to yank the better portion of her body up and out of the sand, revealing him to be holding her by a pair of utterly oversized breasts. His cheeks flushed darkly as he suddenly released his grip on her and took a bare-footed step backwards. "Forgive me-" "Oh shush you," she cut him off once more as she breathed a sigh of happy relief. "Getting out of there was [i]well[/i] worth letting you cop a feel, and I daresay I owe you more than that anyway." With sharp grunts, the woman pried her legs out of the sand and rose to her feet, allowing the orc an unhindered view of her from head to toe. Long, dark hair appeared much cleaner than most forsaken's, and the woman was already in the process of shaking it out and tying it back in a ponytail. Her pale gray skin, despite her undead state, appeared almost completely flawless. The only exceptions were a few lines of stitches that encircled the base of her breasts, as well as a half-moon scar over her thin belly. Her limbs were quite thin, but far from emaciated, though perhaps her most striking feature was her lack of a left arm entirely, save for her shoulder. Very little muscle was apparent on her body even as she brushed away patches of sticking sand. The beachgoer sported a single triangle of yellow fabric to cover her nethers, though the string that held it to her waist disappeared between the cheeks of a particularly plush-looking rump. Her matching top, however, was nowhere to be seen, and her heavy chest freely bounced about as she shook herself off, her dark gray nipples almost hypnotic to the Mag'har orc. "Bah, wretched sand. I'd kill those bastards if I ever found 'em," she griped, struggling to get completely clean. "Ah, fuck it. I'm Margaret, by the way," she spat in resignation and extended a friendly, slender hand to the orc. "K-Kelkondin'dunak," he spat out somewhat shakily as he struggled to maintain eye contact with the nearly-nude woman, his weathered hand extending to shake hers gently. "But Kelko or Kel is fine." Her gaze, however, did not shy away from looking the muscular male up and down with a light smile as they shook hands. "Good to meet'cha, Kel. I owe you one for that save. You here alone?" "Not exactly... but my companions left me to rot when we got here," he admitted, his stance shifting in a vain attempt to hold back the growing erection beneath his swim trunks. "Sound like douchebags," she remarked, her eye shamelessly sizing up his yet-hidden package. "You're better off out here anyway. This part of the beach is clothing-optional, you know. Doesn't get much traffic." "I did not," he admitted, still blushing as he dared another glance at her bare bust. An otherworldly, melodious laugh escaped her plush-looking lips. "What, you thought they stole my top? Fuck clothes in general, really. Didn't like 'em in life, even worse in death, but I guess better than getting a crotch full of sand," she thought out loud, suddenly turning her sand-strewn back to him and looking over one shoulder. "Would you mind brushing me off? I can't reach."