Gren'mazi

He is a troll with crimson mane and appropriately incendiary talent when wielding magic. Though it is not for this that he can claim respect; it is for his tattoo shop wherein he applies artwork to the bodies of his customers. He is also a member of the Burning Tusk Tribe.

The reason that I write of him now was that some days following my brief exchange with Urukha, we spotted each other in Orgrimmar and sat for a chat. We spoke of his mate, whom I have not met personally but in the past I have witnessed her effect on him. Together they expect a tiny one by the end of summer.

We also discussed a recent series of riots in the city, centered around displeasure with Garrosh as Warchief. I have not participated in his campaign in Pandaria, in accordance with my beloved’s wishes, but have heard stories of the trials and disdain the elves endured under his command. Now it seems the trolls have taken to openly opposing him. As one of the race Gren’mazi was worried that the Kor’kron would imprison him for that alone, and put his pregnant mate in danger.

When I asked for his advice on how to manage time in the city, as I still have some business there, he replied in a rather cryptic manner, that I should make sure to know who the enemy really is.

This caused me to think of Urukha and wonder if a similar calculation prompted her to contact me.

A Deserved Apology

It is rare that I would claim to deserve something, least of all positive impressions such as happiness or love. Yet when I am wronged, and the source of that wrong is so utterly and violently disconnected to the truth of it, I expect justice.

For Urukha it took this long to apologize. It is what I wanted, as I had told Nemeiah the day before. My anticipation was that Urukha would demand to share blame again when there clearly was none to be shared. It was she who treated me poorly. Now, she admitted it. 

Still I calculate that there are outside factors that I am not witness to that influenced the concession of guilt, but those are not impactful enough to pursue. Our lives continue in different directions, as I told her. There will be no renewal of our friendship. I accepted the apology and then took my leave shortly after.

This is a Mistake

This may be the stupidest thing I have done since I attended Darkbreak's assembly without familiarizing myself with his protection. Which unfortunately was not very long ago, and does not flatter the integrity of my self-preservation calculations.

Yet when she contacted me without invitation, I eventually agreed to direct meeting with Urukha. Nemeiah approves of that decision, though I know without asking that my beloved does not. With all things considered I tend to trust D.A.'s pragmatism more than I do Nem's optimism, but for the latter's sake I promised that I would give Urukha a chance to explain herself.

I simply carry exceedingly low expectations.

Cross Loss

As I had read was probable, one of the rose crosses has not survived to produce seeds. And there is a second rose hip on one of the Kaelyn bushes that has me concerned. While my beloved tried to reassure me, it is difficult not to worry for all the rest.

Thinking on it, it must seem so ridiculous to an outsider to be so invested in these plants. Yet I believe the emotional attachment is due to my own inability to reproduce. That is, without raising something already dead or giving my powers to someone already living. Neither of which is palatable to me now. Vividly I remember Nemeiah’s horror when I created the black roses originally, by destroying a fresh red bloom with necromancy.

This is the only way that from nothing, I can create life. Growing flowers in a garden.

---- And so many elves have children without a thought. Then they complain of the symptoms, consequences and responsibilities. They forget how fortunate they are simply to have a choice.

Butterfly Wings

Westlynn sent to me a gift. Something gathered from the new lands, I estimate. It is a butterfly with iridescent, shiny blue wings pressed into a glass pane. I am not certain if she sent it because she simply thought I would approve, or if there is something else.

Things have changed.

Knowing what I do and what I do not know, and the intersection wherein all the risk resides. What mattered little, what mattered none, and how delicate we all are.

Old, Burnt Bridges

I happened upon Nemeiah in Orgrimmar this morning. While I was glad to see her, I was equally reluctant to volunteer details of the last few weeks and their conclusion. She may not have approved of Darkbreak due to his use of the Light to harm me, but telling her precisely how he ended seemed unwise. Even if I was not his agent of Death.

Nem mentioned a desire to speak of someone, and I became concerned. Of similar significance as Viere is to me, is a man that has caused her great grief. But it was not him that she wanted to talk about.

It was Urukha.

The orcess who treated me with such misunderstanding and disdain approached her and asked of me, Nem said. It was her supposition that Urukha wanted to rebuild the bridge that burned between us. I do not know the accuracy of the assumption, but if it is true, I would expect Urukha to approach under her own courage and not use Nem's influence on me. Though she likely knows still how I will listen to Nem's counsel.

And, journal, such an approach would require courage. I have forgotten nothing. Which is why I will not believe or act on Nem’s hypothesis unless there is evidence of it.

Checkmate

Darkbreak no longer presents a threat. There was little doubt of the conclusion, but the planning and subterfuge required were telling of the importance of it. He did not reach his destination after sailing from Stormwind.

There was some damage received by my beloved and me. The next steps involve recovery and returning to normalcy. As much as it can be had.