BPB - Entangled (A Warcraft Story)

Gradually

And it was only the start. 

Where had she learned to speak common? Why was she collecting so many herbs? How did she end up in Ashenvale? He asked what her home was like and if she had family, and often shared the same with her, whether she asked him about it or not.

Now that they could understand each other Artion wasted no time asking about everything that he could think of, and for the most part, Zen'Kila answered truthfully or as near as she dared, because sometimes she thought this had to be a ruse to get information.

Why else would an enemy meet with her this often, though when she told him that he would get no information from her and would do better to spy on someone else he had laughed.

They talked some about the war, but both were fiercely loyal, Zen'Kila to her tribe and the Hoard, and Artion to the Night elves and to a lesser degree the Alliance.

These conversations usually ended with Artion trying to correct her thinking by insisting she agrees that everything he said was right, at which time Zen'Kila would demand they fight because his way of thinking was an insult to the DarkSpear, and she would change into her bear form and growl angrily at him.

Artion usually had to run at this point to avoid the fight and Zen'Kila would change shapes often to chase him until her blood-lust had cooled and Artion stopped running with a grin.

Another thing Artion wasted no time doing was correcting her herbalism. He insisted he show her the ways he collected from the plants and Zen'Kila's suspicion that he'd been berating her was proven right.

And Zen'Kila had to admit that his way was slightly better, though she didn't outright say this to him, to save herself from seeing the condescending smile she knew it would no doubt produce.

Zen'Kila liked the elf well enough, but there were times when his arrogance was so overwhelming she wanted to beat him with his own boot. A superiority complex was obviously something shared by all elves as the blood elves she'd met previously had had the same air about them.

"How do ya know so much about collecting herbs?" She asked as he corrected the positions of her hands for the tenth time, and with a scowl, she added. "And why ya got to be so damn annoying?" 

Zen'Kila had shied away from Artion's touch when he had first tried to correct her, but gradually, her trust had grown and she had allowed him closer. His hands had felt strange on hers, five digits as opposed to her three, but their movement was deft and sure.

"Well, I am an elf." He said as if it in itself was an explanation. "I have a profound understanding of this forest. I excel at herbology. And also my father wants me to be a druid, like him." He ignored her insult.

"Ya training to be a druid?" It was Zen'Kila's turn to be surprised as in all this time he had never mentioned the fact, despite knowing she was a druid herself.

"Not exactly..." When he didn't elaborate, Zen'Kila prompted him.

"What ya mean 'not exactly? Ya are or ya not." She frowned as she wrapped her cutting.

"My father wants me to be a druid. It is an honourable and traditional position that is held by several generations of my family. My father himself is an archdruid. Archdruid Kalinian Shadowweaver."

A look of resentment passed over his face, and he sighed so Zen'Kila looked back at the plant in front of her. The subject was obviously a sore point for the elf.

"Well, what now?" He had looked back at her when she spoke, and she pointed at the plant. "Ya think this plant can take one more cutting or no?"

Artion's gaze didn't leave her face as she changed the subject. He tilted his head and watched her until she frowned.

"The plant?" She growled, unnerved by his stare. "More or move?"

"Move." Artion didn't look at the plant. He stood and walked away into the forest and Zen'Kila watched him thoughtfully for a moment before following.