Work Text:
Chen Stormsout looked into Yalia’s eyes one more time, and gave her a little smile. She smiled back, and only then the brewmaster picked up his cane and luggage, heading to the temple’s entrance. Such a simple way of saying good bye was enough for the pandaren, it didn’t matter what kind of trials he would have to face in order to help Vol’jin, just thinking in that little gesture, and he was utterly sure about his return.
The Shadopan leader and the Troll were already at the front door, looking like they had spoken about everything they had to, and they were just waiting for Chen, who noticed that the last one was looking somehow… distracted. Without his face-painting and into those pandaren robes, the Darkspear could be mistaken with any other member of his tribe but himself; after all, that was the idea. It would be too risky if anyone recognized him before they were back at The Eco Isles.
However, while finally arriving next to them, Chen noticed that Vol'jin had been directing his gaze towards the building, but quickly glancing back to him, as if trying to hide this action. Before he could ask or realize what was his old friend trying to see, a low and polite sound of someone clearing his throat grabbed their attention. Taran Zhu looked at them with inscrutable eyes for a long minute, the three of them in silence, and then, he made a deep and respectful bow. The two outsiders quickly corresponded the gesture, and they stood like that for a good amount of time. When raising his head, the shadopan’s expression remained neutral, even when he wished them to have a safe trip, but the Troll and the brewmaster felt honored by the gratitude the old monk had shown them.
After that, Vol’jin glanced back to the temple only once more, and then turned to the mountain’s path. Accompanied by the clear sun of the morning and the cold air of the peak, the two travelers begun their journey back to Kalimdor.
From the window of the building’s infirmary, the human Tyrathan Khort had been watching the whole scene, wishing he had felt strong enough to be at the entrance and properly say good-bye to his friends. Chen had came not much earlier, just to wish him a fast recovery and saying “We will meet again”, but he had not spoken with the Darkspear since the previous day. He had expected to, at least, be able to wish him a safe trip.
Feeling his legs tremble by the sole effort of standing, the man decided to go back to his bed, which, thankfully, was not that far from the window. Still, his steps were slow, and his thoughts went back to the troll, and the arrow. Finally reaching the corner of his bed, and using one of its posts as support, he decided that the Darkspear had considered their promise of meeting again as the best way of saying goodbye. It made sense, the day of the Zandalari attack he had said he didn’t want fond farewells, and yet, he was slightly annoyed.
With a pained sigh, Tyrathan finally sat down on the mattress, touching his bandages with a hand. He had to focus in recovering as fast as he could in order to help the monks again with their tasks, but, for now, his body needed the rest. Trying to get himself more comfortable, the human started to move his pillows, until a sudden trace of red popped out from beneath them. For a second he thought it was a blood stain, but quickly discarded the idea when moving the sheets, and after a second of surprise, he smiled and didn't try to hide a soft laugh as he picked it up with his free hand.
-When did you…? – he almost whispered, not expecting any answer, while looking at the lock of red hair, tied with a thin thong, that was resting on his palm.