Returning to the room he’d rented for the night Mosur frowned a little seeing the child heaped unceremoniously in the corner with a bundle of blankets. She was a stubborn little goat, almost as stubborn as someone else he knew. His hooves beat against the soft wood as he walked quietly over to the young girl and lifted her in his arms. The moth that had been resting on her fluttered awake and lazily took flight. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as she shifted in his arms.
He laid her down on the bed and straightened the blankets making sure she was tucked in. The moth drifted sleepily again down to her shoulder, flapping its wings until it found a comfortable spot and settled. Mosur nodded gently to himself and turned to sit on what must have been half a keg.
The priest-shaman pulled out a worn red book and opened it, laying in his lap and pressing it flat along the center fold. His thumb idled over the rough torn edge of the previously removed page. He squinted his eyes inspecting the tear as his mind wandered over that day, the next, tonight… With a slow quiet exhale he took up his pen and began to fill the next page with writing.
‘I have, on this day, taken up with a new traveling companion. A younger girl far from home. I find myself once more a guard, at least in my own mind, though those thoughts harken back to our campaign on Dragonblight. I enjoy the new fresh companionship and feel that it has made the travel from Stormwind that much lighter on myself. She is a stubborn little kid, but I was recently told I am a stubborn old ram, so it fits.
I have now spoken with both of the men I most consider Brothers. From one I am told that my actions were just, and by the other while not held in the wrong, I was perhaps chided due to my chosen method.
“Did you like causing that pain?” he asked. I have thought about it now since our conversation earlier this evening. I freely admit that I did, I would still do it again, even now, even free. The begging still rings in my ears, the promises he would make. Who am I to talk about stoicism in the face of death, though. I have seen death in its masses, been amongst the mutilated, disfigured, tossed aside bodies. Never did I think I would look back on that with anything but horror. Finally, one I caused by my own choice and I feel nothing.
Nothing. That is what I spoke about to Z. I have reflected once on that already. Still…feeling nothing was..is odd. I’m fine with it.
Earth and water, he said…part of healing. It’s not just the elements of water. Good to know, but for a while now I’ve been thinking of leaving it all behind. I’ve already lost so much that connected me…If I can’t continue as I was then perhaps there is no need to continue pretending. Already I have made friends with fire…Xodius, Merry…I have seen more use in it as of late than ever before. Perhaps it is time I stop being a healer.’
“Did you like causing that pain?” The question echoed in his mind once more as he closed the journal on his written thought. He shifted till he came to a comfortable position and leaned back against the small rooms wall. “I did.” He answered to himself lacing his words with confidence then closed his eyes on the evening and drifted off.