Stay a while, and listen. I have a story for you kittens that I’ll hope you keep close.
Behind us lay the Flame Leviathan, shattered and in ruins. Its mangled masses of metal struts and gears bulking behind us, dominating the skyline at the end of the hallway.
Before us, his great metal feet stomping the ground, as his deceptive voice muttered childish nothings, was our prey. Twenty-five strong we stood, myself and all of my friends. We were sooty and singed from dealing with the guardians to his chamber, but we hadn’t even broken a sweat. I cracked my furred knuckles and took a moment to look back at the other Clan leaders.
What a motley group we were.
Two were troll hunters, engaged for the moment with their pets. Two were blood elves, recently come allies. The rogue was leaning against a wall, looking surly while the death knight stood stoic, her gaze cold like death itself. I peered at her, and not for the first time was I reminded of a certain priest that I used to know.
The final two were Tauren, like myself. Handfasted, and our Clan leaders. With my own clan gone they welcomed my wandering hooves and gave me a place to feel useful.
But all that flitted through my mind in a moment as I stood there, at the head of our hunting party. We were given a mission from Thrall to investigate this faceless horror that had awakened in the depths of Ulduar.
The XT-002 Deconstructor merely stood in our way.
“Allright everyone, Pay Attention!” A hoof in the dust as I pivoted around, fixing the party with my elder’s gaze. “The spirits won’t continue to be kind to us if we continue to award them with nothing but failure. Thrall entrusted us with this mission and…”
They stood there, rapt. Their eyes hard as their hands clutched at their ready weapons. From the tallest Tauren to the most svelte of Blood Elves they watched as I paced up and down the throng. I spoke of how he was to do this at such time and if she didn’t do thus unspeakable atrocities would rain upon the rest of us.
And as I talked, a curious thing happened. The click of hooves on the ancient stone took on a determined timbre, the Trolls stood straighter and even the Forsaken seemed to find strength in their decaying spines.
All of this was lost to me, however, as I focused on the task, the challenge at hand. That is to say, I was oblivious until I paused and heard the faint clatter of a bullet dropping to the floor.
Boostah looked slightly chagrined as he knelt down to retreive his wayward ammunition, “Be sorreh mon. Keep ye goin’ eh?”
The Clan was silent, and attentive. It was this moment that struck me. No longer a shiftless wanderer was I, struggling for recognition and respect. No longer was I a knock-kneed calf uncertain in her abilities.
Now I was truly Sergent Tigerfeet, Elder of the Tauren, and leader of Raids.