Aliya narrowed her eyes, her knees bent and back slouched behind the tree. Turning her gaze upward she only saw the outlining shroud of Lokisiel’s shadow, her lips whistling a soft medley, the Owl returning a tune of his own.
Relaxing her shoulders, she took a step out from behind the tree, spear in hand. Throwing her voice out, as she would back in Ashenvale, she speaks an eloquent Darnassian, unspoiled by human lingo or slang.
“With all your shouting, we will be dead before the sun sets.” She speaks, towards the Kaldorei men, her voice emitting vaguely from the tree line, but, oddly, little more than average volume.
Trekking forth, her shadow projects itself on the white, transparent screen in front of her before appearing from the mists, Lokisiel indulging his royal throne on her shoulder. She continues in Darnassian, her voice authoritive and bossy.
“We need food, water, and protection.” She begins, holding the handle of her spear outward, but to no one in particular. “Here, someone take this and make their way to the shoreline. Fish can be eaten raw if cleaned correctly. I am going to head into the forest, maybe find a spring nearby.”
Edited by Akiyass on 1/31/2013 7:11 AM PST