_Blood dripped from the tip of her sword and was swallowed by the dust.
"You know," Ambrosine said conversationally to the orc corpse at her feet, "I just wanted to _ _have a quiet life on a farm. That's literally all I ever intended. To be left the fuck alone while I minded my own business."_ _ She snapped her wrist so that the blade was flicked, mostly, clean. Rue didn't mind a little blood, really. "But no. Someone always has to come along and mess with things. First the Scourge did in my family farm. _ _Deathwing damn near dumped my second farm down a chasm. And then the Iron Horde strolled into the Blasted Lands and now Surwich is a ghost town. And you know what?"
She swung up on Justice_. The death charger still wore the tattered, tarnished armor of a paladin's mount. That, she had never seen fit to change.
"I've really just about had it."
Jamethera had been kind enough to scout ahead for her and map out a relatively safe route. Relatively–Ambrosine could have easily outrun that orc if she'd wanted to.
But, well, she was in a mood. _"I may be late to the party, but hey. I've brought punch."_
—-
_It was the first time Ambrosine had traveled openly as a Death Knight since…
…the beginning of it, nearly._ _ Nor had she lifted her blades in earnest since Deathwing's fall. Slaughtering the minor demons of the tainted forest didn't count–it was enough to keep her fit, perhaps, but not sharp.
Ambrosine had the sinking feeling that said sharpness would be quick to return. Just because she was here did not mean she was comfortable.
It was hard to face her inner demons, but well. The world just wasn't content to let her hide, so face them she would.
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