Thin and as fragile as glass
My dreams were slurred from alcohol, but I remember them mostly.
I got mostly drunk last evening in Silvermoon -- I keep thinking it must be the ale that draws everyone, including half a dozen TROLLS. I'd have never thought them to cling towards this city, especially given the discrimination in the woods just outside. I can only imagine what the higher ups in that city think of them.
A rogue passed me, I did not know his name though. He spoke of Brill as he was there, and how a druid had sought me out. Well, when is someone not seeking me out? Never anyone good He spoke so remorsefully? Strangely? I am not sure how to pen how he sounded, but it was almost like an air of pity combinded with haughtiness. I can't say I cared for the rogue but I was not burdened with his presence for more than a few minutes. I remember that much at least.
And then Hel. Earthmother, what am I to do? He keeps trying, and I wish. I don't know what I wish for right now. Would it be wrong to hope that Zanik comes through alright? That he asks for me? I could only be so wishful. I think it was his fear that led him into his own turmoil, and I can't say that I didn't probably have a heavy part in it. There is no happy ending, for any of us it seems. Even if I was to turn to Hel, if I wanted to even. I don't know why Zanik can't just make a choice. Is it right to make him choose? Hel, just like his so called friend who I had met a few moments before, started to wail in on me and my given nature to like th Forsaken over Tauren. They spoke of it like it was a horrible and heinous crime. So be it, I am a criminal then, and further into my shame I fall I guess.
Horrible, all of it. I will need far more blood shed before I can resolve this from my mind. I just want to-
I think the hardest thing is coming to terms that that night wasn't real, or wasn't meant to be. Not from the "real" Zanik anyway -- more a silly toy to be played out, like a morbid hand of cards that I thought was real. In my dreams during last night, I saw myself in a beautiful dress. It was brighter than the sun in the Barrens, glittering like the fine azure dust from dragonlings. But when I stepped into the light, to show others in great joy what I had on, it floated off my body like fine particles of dust. I was left naked and standing before everyone, and truely embaressed to the core. I ran to hide my shame, but I could not find my way through the crowd. That's when I woke up in the wagon.
I got mostly drunk last evening in Silvermoon -- I keep thinking it must be the ale that draws everyone, including half a dozen TROLLS. I'd have never thought them to cling towards this city, especially given the discrimination in the woods just outside. I can only imagine what the higher ups in that city think of them.
A rogue passed me, I did not know his name though. He spoke of Brill as he was there, and how a druid had sought me out. Well, when is someone not seeking me out? Never anyone good He spoke so remorsefully? Strangely? I am not sure how to pen how he sounded, but it was almost like an air of pity combinded with haughtiness. I can't say I cared for the rogue but I was not burdened with his presence for more than a few minutes. I remember that much at least.
And then Hel. Earthmother, what am I to do? He keeps trying, and I wish. I don't know what I wish for right now. Would it be wrong to hope that Zanik comes through alright? That he asks for me? I could only be so wishful. I think it was his fear that led him into his own turmoil, and I can't say that I didn't probably have a heavy part in it. There is no happy ending, for any of us it seems. Even if I was to turn to Hel, if I wanted to even. I don't know why Zanik can't just make a choice. Is it right to make him choose? Hel, just like his so called friend who I had met a few moments before, started to wail in on me and my given nature to like th Forsaken over Tauren. They spoke of it like it was a horrible and heinous crime. So be it, I am a criminal then, and further into my shame I fall I guess.
Horrible, all of it. I will need far more blood shed before I can resolve this from my mind. I just want to-
I think the hardest thing is coming to terms that that night wasn't real, or wasn't meant to be. Not from the "real" Zanik anyway -- more a silly toy to be played out, like a morbid hand of cards that I thought was real. In my dreams during last night, I saw myself in a beautiful dress. It was brighter than the sun in the Barrens, glittering like the fine azure dust from dragonlings. But when I stepped into the light, to show others in great joy what I had on, it floated off my body like fine particles of dust. I was left naked and standing before everyone, and truely embaressed to the core. I ran to hide my shame, but I could not find my way through the crowd. That's when I woke up in the wagon.