Ruetto: Ancestry - Part One
"How big is your family?"
"Why are your ears flopping?"
"I'm growing a beard!"
The clank clank clank of plate armor ceased as Ruetto turned and surveyed the awe-struck children. Their round, fuzzy faces and large eyes were entrancing, in a way. She turned just in time to see one of them make a swipe for her long coal braid. With a grunt, she snagged the base of her hair and pulled the braid over one shoulder, out of reach. The culprit, the shortest of the Pandaren young, was a little girl with a short braid herself, who immediately scurried to the back of the group as Ruetto's green eyes bore down on her with a brief, but intense stare.
She felt nothing for them. No typical, overwhelming feeling of adoration or swooning, cooing sense of rapture over their admittedly pleasant and 'cute' features. She eyed each one with a blank expression that seemed gradually to instill a sense of trepidation where previously there had been fearless curiosity.
And then, with a loud CLUNK!, she sat down upon the grass, to the side of the pathway through Dawn's Blossom.
"I have no family."
A collective gasp was heard through the gaggle of children.
"My ears flop because they are long and gravity pulls them with each step."
"What's gravity?"
"Why are they so long?"
"How long did it take your braid to grow?"
Again the smallest Pandaren girl had nudged her way to the forefront of the group to look at Ruetto. Her eyes were big, blue, surrounded by black fur before white encapsulated her cheeks and ears. For a moment they stared at each other. She took the braid between both plate-covered hands and held out the length of it to the little Pandaren girl, who took it from her and admiringly eyed it, quietly counting the number of weaves. When the elven fighter spoke, it was with surprise at the surety of her answer.
"Two-hundred ninety-two years."
"Woooow!"
"Why are you so old?"
"Is that why you don't have any family?"
"You don't look that old."
"Elves typically don't do not look as old as they are. Even upon death's door." The woman replied. She lowered her shoulders with a bit of a creak and slowly relaxed, convinced none of the tiny things would try and jump at her, at least for the moment. Children had a habit of being considerably unpredictable. The shortest girl had not yet let go of Ruetto's braid, though the warrior didn't seem to mind.
"Where did your family go? Don't you have any children?"
"I do not believe I have any. And I am certain they are all passed on."
"To be with your ancestors?" Asked the tallest boy, green eyed with hair as dark as her own. Ruetto tilted her head contemplatively. The image of the ghost-like elves that stood in rows at the Circle of Stones as the Lorewalker recalled her ancestry, came to her mind's eye. Most of them stood proudly, with a few exceptions. She recognized none of their faces, save for one, who resembled herself a great deal. The slight tug of her hair brought her back to her thoughts and reminded that the pandaren girl still had a grasp on her braid. Her gaze moved back to the shortest child for a moment before responding.
"If that is the way of things, then yes."
"Why are your ears flopping?"
"I'm growing a beard!"
The clank clank clank of plate armor ceased as Ruetto turned and surveyed the awe-struck children. Their round, fuzzy faces and large eyes were entrancing, in a way. She turned just in time to see one of them make a swipe for her long coal braid. With a grunt, she snagged the base of her hair and pulled the braid over one shoulder, out of reach. The culprit, the shortest of the Pandaren young, was a little girl with a short braid herself, who immediately scurried to the back of the group as Ruetto's green eyes bore down on her with a brief, but intense stare.
She felt nothing for them. No typical, overwhelming feeling of adoration or swooning, cooing sense of rapture over their admittedly pleasant and 'cute' features. She eyed each one with a blank expression that seemed gradually to instill a sense of trepidation where previously there had been fearless curiosity.
And then, with a loud CLUNK!, she sat down upon the grass, to the side of the pathway through Dawn's Blossom.
"I have no family."
A collective gasp was heard through the gaggle of children.
"My ears flop because they are long and gravity pulls them with each step."
"What's gravity?"
"Why are they so long?"
"How long did it take your braid to grow?"
Again the smallest Pandaren girl had nudged her way to the forefront of the group to look at Ruetto. Her eyes were big, blue, surrounded by black fur before white encapsulated her cheeks and ears. For a moment they stared at each other. She took the braid between both plate-covered hands and held out the length of it to the little Pandaren girl, who took it from her and admiringly eyed it, quietly counting the number of weaves. When the elven fighter spoke, it was with surprise at the surety of her answer.
"Two-hundred ninety-two years."
"Woooow!"
"Why are you so old?"
"Is that why you don't have any family?"
"You don't look that old."
"Elves typically don't do not look as old as they are. Even upon death's door." The woman replied. She lowered her shoulders with a bit of a creak and slowly relaxed, convinced none of the tiny things would try and jump at her, at least for the moment. Children had a habit of being considerably unpredictable. The shortest girl had not yet let go of Ruetto's braid, though the warrior didn't seem to mind.
"Where did your family go? Don't you have any children?"
"I do not believe I have any. And I am certain they are all passed on."
"To be with your ancestors?" Asked the tallest boy, green eyed with hair as dark as her own. Ruetto tilted her head contemplatively. The image of the ghost-like elves that stood in rows at the Circle of Stones as the Lorewalker recalled her ancestry, came to her mind's eye. Most of them stood proudly, with a few exceptions. She recognized none of their faces, save for one, who resembled herself a great deal. The slight tug of her hair brought her back to her thoughts and reminded that the pandaren girl still had a grasp on her braid. Her gaze moved back to the shortest child for a moment before responding.
"If that is the way of things, then yes."