Watching as Wrighthorn disappeared into the sky, Hell Scream could finally relax.
He looked around at the wooden huts and the oasis, feeling both intrigued and at ease. It wasn't time to sleep yet, so he walked out of the hut and strolled around the grassland outside, observing the unfamiliar Tauren surrounding him.
Some of the female Tauren were drying jerky while making food from the roots and stems of plants.
The male Tauren were forging weapons, repairing armor, and seemed to be always preparing for battle.
The weapons of the Tauren were mostly heavy battle axes and war hammers; he even saw some using giant logs as weapons.
The Tauren were also curiously observing him; one with a coat of black mane, a robust Tauren warrior, greeted him in a loud and boisterous voice.
"Shorty, you the green-skinned one that came with Blackhorn?"
Hell Scream was being referred to as 'shorty' for the first time, but he didn't mind. Compared to these large beings, he truly was much smaller.
