Downtime

In the weeks after the return of his wayward sister, Thalo'thas slowly became accustom to sporadically finding the shadow-bound woman within his home, unexpected and unannounced. Without arousing too much suspicion, he'd built a second bed and prepared one of the spare rooms for her, giving her somewhere she could always sleep without worry of being disturbed by those who could only see what she was on the outside.

Today, she was simply draped out upon his couch, on foot resting upon the arm opposite her head, the other leg dangling over the side. She was clad in wrapped strips of flame-coloured leather, her skirts acting more like blankets at the moment, though one panel was brushing against the floor beside the couch; shadows swirled lazily about her, wisps of darkness against the bright clothing and furniture. Two different pairs of goggles rested against her ornately stitched pack, her Fel-flamed eyes were covered only by the thin silk strip.

Resting against her collarbones was the same enameled phoenix Bloodmourn had worn, rising and falling with her slow and shallow breaths. Faint glimmers of light passed over its metallic features, the shimmering netherwelp's snout resting against the woman's shoulder as it snored in slumber. For a moment, she looked almost like her old self, aside from the faint glimmer of the Fel-flames within her seemingly closed eyes.

Outside, the twilight waters sparkled a dim blue as the night began to settle over Kalimdor. The warm breezes had twisted slowly into cooler gusts of wind that ruffled Thalo'thas' hair as he looked down at his sister. He knew that somewhere, a Blood Knight lay dead or dying - he was quite sure that the first time she obtained ranks within their Order, she had to get the same necklace from a fallen Knight.

Shaking his head, the captain made his way into the room she kept, halting to stare at the array of weapons leaning against the wall nearest the bed. He spotted a pair of maces of some sort, two different types of swords, a pair of knuckles and a rickety polearm that was laughable compared to her old Ranseur, which was still missing. One of the two swords was permeated with shadow, the same misting tendrils that clung to his sister wrapped about the blade like a haunting sheath, and he knew it must be what she used the most in combat.

Pulling the blanket from the foot of the bed, he sighed at the collection of arms, wondering how many foolish men had fallen for trying to kill his sister. Bloodvalor wanted her dead, and the rogue wouldn't put it past the man to send out his various adepts seeking higher rank with the order to eliminate the 'fallen' Paladin. He idly wondered if Lady Liadrin was aware of the situation, and wished he could leave the Thalo'dan long enough to speak with her about such, however he'd not have the time to wait for an audience nor to even travel there without something going wrong at home.

No, he would have to persuade Onóna to venture to the Shattered Sun Offensive's headquarters, though he was unsure of whether or not she would be welcome within the walls there given her prior masters. Somehow, there must be a way to show the hunter had given up her ties to both Illidan and Sunstrider, without tipping their hand to Bloodvalor.

Draping the blanket over the dreaming form of his sister, Thalo'thas did his best to cover most of her without smothering the sleeping whelp. Looking down at the glittering green beast, he wondered if the little whelpling could breath fire yet - the last thing he needed was to burn his house down. Quickly, he pulled the blanket a little bit more away from the whelp's snout, rearranging it as best he could without leaving his sister too uncovered before blowing out the candles and making his way to his own room.

In the darkness, two brilliant green orbs flared once, a faint smile drifting over shadowed lips before eyes closed again, plunging the room into shadow once more.