<3> Nathan couldn't help but let out a soft, gravelly laugh at this. "Very well. I like games. One: What is it that angers you about your mother?" Quela hesitantly returned his smile with a faint one of her own. "To the point. Well... she's overbearing as fuck, for one. She wanted so badly for me to be a druid when I was first born, rather than become a Sentinel. I made the mistake of following her lead, thinking it might make her proud of me, but... ugh, this is stupid." Nathan rolled his eyes emphatically. "Mothers, right?" Rather than shell up, the night elf relaxed a bit more and laughed again. "Is that your second question?" "No! No, no, no," he backpedaled somewhat sheepishly. "I was just, y'know, relating and stuff, but I guess I... kinda can't. My mum passed away when I was little, and my dad stayed in Gilneas when...." The worgen's hesitation spoke volumes. "I get it," she echoed, cutting the silence short. "I never knew my dad, and my mom still won't talk about him, even after eighty freakin' years." "I'm sorry to hear that," he sympathized, his canine expression turning shocked as he did a double-take. "Wait, [i]eighty[/i]?" Quela flinched uncomfortably at this. "Yeah, what of it?" "I guess it's just not what I expected, I'm only thirty," Nathan admitted softly. Despite her age, the woman barely looked older than a twenty-year-old human might. The night elf scoffed. "Years don't mean much to elves. Most of my kind would still call me a child in some form or another. [i]Adults[/i]," she emphasized with finger quotes in the air, "Have to be over a century old or better. I mean, by human standards I'm golden, and Stormwind is admittedly much more fun than Darnassus, but mom forbade me to go back there after last time." As curious as Nathan was, he knew he had to be more careful with his questions. He was growing more curious about this unusual, rebellious elf, but he needed to stay focused on his job for the time being. "Let's... put a pin in that for now. Question two-" "Three," she corrected him. "It's rude to ask a lady her age, y'know, but I answered honestly." "Shit," he swore under his breath. "Fine then, three: What do you have against worgen?" This made Quela re-scrunch her brow in anger. Was it that obvious? "That's none of your damn business." "Hey, you said you'd answer honestly," Nathan retorted. "Yeah, but what do you care, fleabag?" "I care because I'd like to not be talked-down-to for the rest of the week." "Ugh," she spat and looked out at the rushing river. "My... my stepdad was a worgen," she admitted, clearly biting back a bit more seething anger. "He died years ago, but I couldn't stand the fucker. My mom changed completely after she met him." Nathan remained stoic as he took in this new information. "I see. He wasn't abusive or anything, was he?" "Not in the usual sense," she admitted somewhat reluctantly. "He was just an asshole. He worshiped my mom so much that I barely got to see her after he came around. They'd leave all the time on vacations without me, and any time we'd talk, a few words from my mom and he'd ignore me for a week or more. I stopped caring about my mom's wishes the day he took her from me. She'd also send him to put on the angry tone like you did earlier, but I made sure it never did any good." Nathan half-frowned at this. "That sounds complicated, and he sounds like a douche." "He was," she agreed and huffed angrily. "Just a common fleabag and crotch-licker. And I bet you're no better." "Okay, hold up," Nathan reasserted in frustration. "One, I've [i]never[/i] had fleas in my life. Two, just because I [i]can[/i] lick my crotch, doesn't mean I [i]do[/i]. Three, lumping every Gilnean and worgen in with your asshole stepdad is rude at best and downright offensive at the worst. I don't wanna be [i]that[/i] guy, but a worgen just saved your life about ten minutes ago, and if you think I'm [i]anything[/i] like him, besides being afflicted by the curse, then I guess you can think what you want. But I seriously think you need to give worgen a fairer shake than that. We're not all the same, just like night elves aren't, and are vastly different from nightborne, void elves, and blood elves. And on top of that, they may have been assholes, but that's because they were people, not [i]because[/i] they were worgen." This little lecture really set Quela back on her heels, and for once her expression relaxed completely. "I... I'm sorry," she said softly, her eyes appearing to flicker as she worked to process what she'd actually said. "I didn't mean that. That's not-" Nathan let out a sharp exhale through his snout as he picked himself up off the beach. "I need to dry off," was all he said as he turned and headed back for the ruined village. Quela did not move, but her short ears drooped as she stared down into the rushing water. Anger still permeated her mind, but the longer she lingered on it, the more Nathan's words echoed in her mind, and the more she realized how unfair she'd been to him. Slowly, the night elf stood and worked to retie her ponytail as she headed toward the village after him. She wasn't sure exactly which building he'd headed toward, but after a bit of searching, her sharp eyes caught a tendril of smoke rising from one of the old chimneys. There was no door remaining upon that particular dwelling, and the glass in the windows had disappeared, but the walls were still intact, save for an additional break in the back wall from a fallen tree. With a deep breath, the night elf strolled up to the doorway and stepped right in without a sound. "Nathan? I'm sorry, I-" she started. Then immediately realized she'd made a huge blunder.