She woke up to a dwarf pounding on metal.  It rang in her ears – and through her head – like spikes being poked at her eyes by a clumsy, tapdancing Tauren.  

Did he have to pound so LOUD?  She pulled the blanket over her head, refusing to open her eyes.  People shouldn’t hit metal this early in the morning.  It was… it was uncivilized.  That’s what it was.  Totally, completely, utterly uncivilized and …  that’s the moment, the absolute single instant, when she realized that she had no pants.  At first this was only mildly troubling with the banging and crashing and people whispering like shrieking Hozen and the hurty head – but it was a thought that niggled and poked and wormed its way up past the fuzziness of her hangover and insisted on pointing out her utter lack of anything below the waist (or, for that matter, above it) beyond fur.

‘Petal found herself patting various bits of that fur, in fact, in a fuzzy quest for something vaguely like cloth.  She found instead… blanket.  Rough and military and heavy and a little itchy.  Okay.  That’s a start.  Then… a cot?  It’s a cot.  A cot that smelled like worgen.  It was a good smell.  It took a minute to connect in her brain, and she smiled despite the dwarf pain.  Howling with the boys from the Gilnean brigade, singing human songs about unicorns and maidens that she can never tell Kun she knows now, the drunken grope and the laughter of the squad as she turned their gropy friend into a porcupine for twenty minutes just to teach him a lesson about groping uninvited, and explaining patiently that he needed to -ask next time-.

All in all, it was a really satisfying evening.  Of course… she’s now naked.  On a military co… military cot?  MILITARY cot.  Oh -crap-.

She sniffed again, … nope.  Not same-worgen-smells.  New-wo… oh.  Wait.  Familiar worgen smell?  Really familiar worgen smell.

She forced an eye open, hating the mere thought of light, and realizing that hatred was too small a word for how much she hated light when it stabbed at her like that, insistant and harsh and all -twilighty- and too bright and AUGH.


That’s a canvas roof, and this is a cot, and that’s Cael’s shield and – 

She sat BOLT UPRIGHT, blanket falling off and forgotten for a moment.  This.  Was.   Cael’s.  Tent.  The little helmet pots.  The little table of treasures.  The itchy blanket.  The not really big enough cot. 

Why…. why was she naked.  In Cael’s tent.  

That thought led to abject, absolute panic.  Pants were required.  They were required absolutely immediately and without any hesitation, and then she could just …. open a portal and go home, and nobody would ever have to know.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  

She looked under the cot.  In it.  Wrapping the blanket around herself she paced the whole three paces of the tent at least a half dozen times, trying to be completely quiet, failing pretty completely utterly, and not finding pants -anywhere-.  Well, not her pants, anyway. A few articles of Cael’s clothing, sure – but they were both a) too big, and b) she couldn’t bring herself to actually steal the few things that the worgen owned for the sake of her own tail.  Some arcane dust in the cot itself, which made her sneeze. In the end, she found herself sitting on the end of the cot, wrapped in the blanket, staring at the flaps of canvast that were the only thing between her and the camp of worgen outside, who were probably already smelling her there and wondering about her snoring and OH CELESTIALS…

“Kun.”  Her own voice made her teeth ache, so she resorted to whispering her vow, “I am going to /so/ get you for this.”

(Writer’s note:  I couldn’t resist this little vignette – but, before you think this is pure fiction?  This… this is actually what happened when petal actually showed up drunk and actually talked to Glacierfur and her sister got involved.   I present this as evidence that Kun is Evil, as all good sisters must be, and leave it here so that you can understand when the horribleness that must inevetably occur, the revenge that must absolutely be taken, does in fact come home … it’s totally, completely, utterly, and without shame justified. 

Edited to make the remark – the NAKEDNESS is not Kun’s fault.  OTHER FORCES ARE AT PLAY. 🙂 )

Author Aunne
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