Windy looked up at the night sky. Shortly after she became aware of the world, she had learned to observe the arrangement of the stars to find her bearings. Having lived in the Plaguelands, where only gray-yellow mists hung overhead, for more than two years, she was grateful that she hadn't completely lost this skill.
She and Sowema had crossed the Feralas border and arrived in the Thousand Needles. Windy had wanted to stay a few more days to care for the injured old orc, but he refused. Although the old orc wasn't too pleased that his duel had been interrupted, it wasn't a big issue. After leaving some herbs, she set off again.
Oyi Nightsong's body was no different from that of any other night elf. There was no sign that anything had ever happened. Now, he lay in a small grave the two had dug for him beneath a large tree. Windy planned to return to Moonglade and tell her mentor that Oyi had died from an ogre and beast attack.
A crackling campfire still flickered between her and Sowema.
"Wendy," Sowema said, "you're heading straight back to Moonglade, right?"
"That's the plan."
"As for me, once I reach the Barrens, I'm thinking of heading back to Mulgore."
Windy looked up.
"That sounds good," she said.
"By then, you can take the rest of the firewood and dried meat with you."
"I won't be needing them much longer. Once I reach the Barrens, there'll be plenty of places to rest."
"If you find it a hassle to carry, you can sell them."
Windy didn't respond. The firelight reflected off Soelma's nose, making it glow red.
"Soelma."
"What?"
"Move a little to the side. The smoke is blowing your way."
"Oh."