Not going to lie. This is weird. I'm not exactly sure where it came from. But, yeah. Tularius looks at stars and remembers some nifty myth-likething. Yay, night elf culture and history!
Tularius WIllowsong and others--mages!--from the Shan're worked together to conjure a storm above the Charred Vale in Stonetalon. The goal? To cool down the land and the black dragonflight's precious eggs, while pinning it on the Naga.
Tularius Willowsong reflects upon a smooth transition in Shan're politics, but also on his suspicion and confusion in relation to the actions of a devious member of this newly-empowered Council--and not the one you might suspect!
You may drop a hollow branch in the water however you like, but it seems that it will always rise back to the surface.
I slept again last night—when was it that I grew so tired?—and I again, I dreamt. It was the same dream that has visited me since the day I fell into Winterspring, the dream of the barrow den and of my old friend in chains, laughing and pretending that he could be happy there.
While attempting to slip into a deeper state of meditative consciousness, Tularius Willowsong reflects on his recent conversations with Shelomiyth Windpath, Theleste Moonraven, and Lorenn Greenbough before being interrupted by Shelomiyth's arrival.
Before slipping into a deeper state of meditative consciousness, Tularius Willowsong briefly reflects on his profound satisfaction at experiencing an incremental bit of success on Mount Hyjal.
