Emerald Dream
Brickston Welling ran through Darnassus, his nose to the ground. Enjoying his heightened sense a little too much. Ears pinned back, and foaming slightly at the mouth he followed the trail of a scent that was previously unfamiliar to him.

It was all he could do to dodge the citizens and business men while he sped on all fours after this delicious trail. His running picked up faster and faster, almost feverishly he drew in the scent dropping globules of drool as his paws pushed him along the path.

Suddenly he stopped, he had found what he was looking for. He found the luscious black earth from Un'Goro the druids had been using as fertilizer. It smelled heavenly, a mix of rotten flesh, ripened dung, and garbage. He foamed at the mouth harder as without a care in the world; he began to roll in the dampened soil. Grunting with delight, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, he writhed and wiggled on his back.

This....is....marvelous! He thought to himself continuing to cover every inch of his body...
*Chugs down a Cherry Grog attempting to gain control of his guts, and then he procedes to write a reply to this story.*

Absolutely disgusting........You should be ashamed of yourself, Warlock. You should head back to whatever hole you crawled out of.
Nymaway in her bird form sat in one of the great trees in Darnassus, she watched the area lazily until something caught her eyes. She spotted a pack member running as fast as he could on all fours sniffing the ground.

Pondering why Brickston was running like a bat out hell she opens her wings and flies silently across the sky to a tree much closer to him. When she lands she discovers he has stopped and now is rolling around in what looks to be compost.

Nymaway whispers to herself, " He appears almost feral in nature or perhaps this is just a dirty little secret."

She watches him for a while before she hears a howl in the distance, she then takes to the sky with a quickness and leaves.

All that remains is two black feathers slowly floating to the ground and Brickston still rolling around in compost.
Leavanar just woke up an hour after night fall. As she was walking to the portal to Rut'theran village she noticed a pile of fertilizer sitting near the lake. "How obscene" she whispered to herself, and quickly decided to walk away from the mess. However, as she was leaving, she noticed a trail of fertilizer leading to the main gate if Darnassus.

She thus followed the trail and found herself before a common moonwell in the woods of Teldrassil. And behold, there stood a worgen covered in compost undressing. It appeared that the worgen is attempting to wash himself in the moonwell.

Disgusted, she quickly darted her dagger onto the leg of the worgen, and being poisoned, the worgen fell unconscious. Holding her breath, she then tied a rope on the feet of the dirty creature and dragged him into a near by lake.
Brickston awoke soaking wet, and bleary eyed. He had returned to his human form. He didn't recall much, but remembered a human rogue muttering something.

Brickson ignored the words of the human. What a fool he thought...suddenly, something caught his attention, and before he could realize what was happening he could feel his body burn with the curse. He screamed, then howled.

Suddenly, his ears pinned back, and his nose shot straight in the air! Without warning he took off like a...well...like a worgen...chasing after the new scent. He headed to the outskirts of Darnassus, towards something even fouler.

Diving head first into a pile of leatherworking scraps - sinew and bone - he pulled out a large femur, that had clearly been laying in the pile for days in the hot sun. Delighted with himself, his hair stood up straight on the back of his neck and he made another mad dash towards the compost pile.

Frantically, he dug deep into the compost pile and buried his prize. Any shadow that flickered near him he growled. This was his treasure. With a smugness he buried himself up to his haunches in the black rich soil, pleased with himself he began to grow sleepy.
Leavanar soon returned to her home after cleaning up the worgen she had encountered in the forest of Teldrassil. Hours later, she suddenly realized the poison on her dagger was strong enough to pacify an adult humanoid for quite a long time. Though disturbed by the filthiness of the worgen, she did not want him to drown in the lake.

She quickly began to run back to the shore. On the way, she heard Darnassian citizens speaking of a weird creature rolling in the pile of compost earlier in the day. The druids had now promptly removed the pile, but the town still was far from clean due to the worgen's silly act.

She looked up in the night sky, there was no stars visible. "Great, it is going to rain soon." She thought, and hoped the rain would finally cleanse the streets.

She found no worgen after she arrived at the lake, the rope she used earlier was on the ground. Obviously the worgen had woken up and left. Relieved, she let out a sigh and decided to head to Shadowglen to visit her cousin. Before she could take a step, a scream near by caught her attention.

"Something is wrong." She thought, "Maybe someone needs help". With an outstanding sense of hearing, she accurately identified the location of the source of the scream. She unsheathed her daggers. Slowly and secretively, she approached the location of interest.

Although the clouds above were thick, the moonlight still penetrated through and illuminated the forest. Rain began to fall and the woods glowed with a marvelous violet colour. It was warm too, and the leaves and flowers emitted a very sweet, refreshing aroma.

The night time beauty did not distract Leavanar however. In the distance, she saw a little girl standing in the rain. Her eyes fixated on a small mount of waste. "What is wrong?" Leavanar shouted, but received no response from the girl.

She came closer and closer to the pile, and to her disgust it was the worgen again. The air now smelled foul. Leavanar secretly condemned the druids for brining fertilizers to Teldrassil. And she wondered why the elves even allowed the worgens to enter and share their hometown. The raw feralism of the worgen was truly a shock. Leavanar quickly sent the little girl home, and now she had to take care of the worgen.
Brickston pranced around his newly claimed territory like he had brought down a herd of Moongraze Stags.

Completely naked, eyes glowing with a tint of green, he looked more like the feral worgs of Grizzly Hills, minus the tail. He happily leapt around leaving muddy tracks everywhere. Some of the elves were amused by his antics, after all, they thought, how much more closer to the land could you get?

Others were completely revolted, wafting away the air with their noses. Brickston delighted himself with the audience of all of them. For some of the younger ones he would bare his fangs to watch their shocked expressions, and in a moment's time, bark wildly like an excited pup ready to play. They would clap and cheer.

Suddenly, Brickston's ears pinned back again, he hunkered low to the ground as if he was afraid. He ran off, making sure to hit every puddle of water on the way to remove ever speck of fertilizer, and scent from him. For the moment he knew he was untrackable. He had left his trophy behind, but he would return. For the time being he would remain well hidden.
The day started normal for Kheldren: Check on his small herb garden and making sure his mounts are in good shape to ferry him to his battles and trials. Soon, his attention turned to the roster of his order. He hopped on his trusty winterspring saber to visit Ayllin about finalizing the list of members to drop from the Keepers of Kalidar roster. His ride was punctuated by some black piece of fur bobbing up and down every time it moved and leaving black specks of soil behind. Someone needs to leash that worgen was his thought.
The reflection of the moon danced on the pristine waters of Darnassus. The streets were gradually getting busier. Some travellers from the Eastern Kingdoms clearly were not used such noise at night time. But businesses carried on regardless. After storing the ores she mined from Darkshore yesterday, Leavanar decided to spend the rest of the night catching fish in Lake Al'Ameth.

Still thinking about the strange worgen she encountered last night, she quietly muttered to herself a prayer that his sanity would be soon restored.

The Darnassian sky increased in colours as more and more stars revealed their presence. The air was still but fresh. Such peace was truly adored after the end of the Cataclysm.
Brickston emerged from his hiding place. Several days had gone by and the city returned to normal. He began drooling as he thought of his prize buried in the delicious Un'Goro fertilizer.

Full speed he ran back to Darnassus.
For the Pack!

Some of my more fun RP is right here!
Brickston Wellington ran by the Sentinels in the opening to Darnassus. His four paws thundered against the bricks in the walkways as he mindlessly ran by the howling vale.

Ears pinned back, a tendril of drool threatened to fall as the wind blew against his face carrying the rich sent of his prize buried in the soil. He triumphantly reached the soil, and began feverishly digging into it. Suddenly, he yelped with delight! There it was.

Taking a mouthful of soil, he lifted the rotting bone in his mouth, almost smiling. He sauntered off. To where, he wasn't sure.
(( Brickston please get in touch with me tonight if possible. :D ))

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