| rdfs:comment | - ((Glad to oblige. Here's an end I'd choose for Bleu)) Bleunienn knew the druids at Starfall Village had been worrying since she had buried her last frostsabre six months before. They worried not because she had laid another companion to rest, but because she had not sought out a new one. She hunted no longer, rarely left her cottage, except on starlit nights when the wind was quiet in the pines. Then, sometimes, she would step out the door, little more than a violet shadow in the moonlight, footprints in the snow. Are you ill, huntress? he asked. No, she said. But I am old.
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| abstract | - ((Glad to oblige. Here's an end I'd choose for Bleu)) Bleunienn knew the druids at Starfall Village had been worrying since she had buried her last frostsabre six months before. They worried not because she had laid another companion to rest, but because she had not sought out a new one. She hunted no longer, rarely left her cottage, except on starlit nights when the wind was quiet in the pines. Then, sometimes, she would step out the door, little more than a violet shadow in the moonlight, footprints in the snow. The druids had not discussed their worries with her directly until that evening, when one of the younger ones ventured to bring her some fish stew he had prepared. He hovered awkwardly in the doorway, watching her set the bowl on the wooden table. Are you ill, huntress? he asked. No, she said. But I am old. Very, very old, she thought. She had been nearly seven thousand years old when the Third War had ended, and that had been a long time ago, even as elves counted things. This is what comes as a result of the Sacrifice. The druid spoke as one aggrieved. It is. But I have lived ten thousand years, and that should be enough for anyone, even a Kaldorei. She smiled at him. Stormrage chose rightly. I regret nothing. He shook his head, not mollified. I will come back in the morning, huntress. Please eat. He slipped out the door and she listened to his footsteps crunching away through the snow. She sat and tried to eat the stew; it didnt interest her much. Had there been a cat in the house shed have given the stew to it, but the corner where her frostsabres had slept was empty. She sighed, and something brushed against her. It was Hyacinth, the great cat who had been her companion years before. The beast butted her head under her mistress pale hand, violet and moonlight, shadow and frost. Hello, old friend. The huntress stroked the broad head. So youre the one to come for me? Hyacinth purred and placed a huge paw on Bleunienns knee. The elf leaned forward to lay her forehead against the cats, digging her fingers into the plush coat. Its time then. Im ready. Huntress and cat rose and walked to the door. There they paused a moment while the elf looked back at her body, still in the chair. The druids would find it in the morning and deal with it appropriately. She no longer needed it. Then they stepped out of the cottage into the starlit night, leaving no violet shadows in the moonlight, no footprints in the snow. Hyacinth purred and rubbed her head against the huntress leg. Bleunienn fondled the cats velvety ears. Its a beautiful night, isnt it? Lets go hunting.
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