Merell Feathermane

Merell Feathermane formerly of the Wildmane tribe has lost her parents and three siblings to the war raging through Azaroth. Making her way to Bloodhoof village to fulfill a water vision filled with wolves she seeks out the Tribe of the Bad Moon Rising. She follows the path of the Druid, and has one new adopted sister Dakana of the Tribe. 
The following are short chronicles of her life... 
The Hunt
----
Merell turns her will inward and calls to the cat curled up sleeping in her soul. Purring in her mind she calls forth the entity and pets and scratches the beast with her ‘hands’ of her soul.
"Run with Me?" Merell asks
{yessss} replies the beast within
Like unfolding a canvas tent with one expert flip of the arms and shoulders Merell turns outward the beast coming with. Letting out a hearty roar to the dawn of a new day the Beast and Merell run through the planes in the Barrens.
She spies a heard of antelope through a shift in the wind bringing their scent on the air. Nose raised she tastes the air, mouth hanging open.
{!!} the beast demands. Merell laughs gently within
"Yes we shall hunt."
Stalking through the grass, nose to the wind, the scent builds.
{!near!} Merell hears in her heart.
Crouching low to the ground Merell shifts her conscious slightly leaving the Beast and her within not easily seen. Slowly, oh so slowly they advance as one, each paw set with care crouched low to the ground.
"Take the young buck, leave the mothers." Merell asks
{?}
"The females will breed food for next season, leave them."
The Beast within licks its chops
{yessss} breaths a voice across Merell’s mind
The prey chosen in the field the Beast and Merell within make their way around the heard, following and waiting for the moment to strike. The muscles straining in her legs they coil tighter to spring further……………………
The path to heal, the path to fight, the balance between
----
I was left shaking on the ground. The Earth Mother's touch is not always gentle and loving. Sometimes it is her wrath, her disappointment. She was right of course. I had been expending too much of my time to the destruction of what is evil, what uses other's in the world. While She appreciated my restoring a balance, my soul had darkened in the endless blood bath.
She left me with a gift, the gift to heal, far more than I already did. It left me feeling weak, crippled. My strength gone, surviving by stealth, only confronting things in groups. I had been a solitary hunter for the most part. Occasionally I would run with Dakana and others of the Tribe. Now my power left me one avenue, to maintain others so they may venture forth into the frey. Distancing myself, so that I may learn. At least that is what I thought She had in mind.
It turned out regardless of Her intent, or perhaps because of it I began to see. I began to see that I had been taking delight in removing evil things from this world. To take delight is to tempt chaos and destruction. It was better I began to think after a moon's phase to think upon it as releasing the soul from it's evil binding, not enjoying the death I brought. Better to morn their passing, understanding that they themselves may have never chosen the path that they were forced to walk. Or were betrayed into. It is better to kill quickly, cleanly lest their corruption touch you in the form of battle madness.
My healing hand touched many, the Earth Mother having granted me a new form perhaps to remind me how I am bound to the earth, to things that grow, the wolf does not kill for lust. He kills to defend, to feed. A tiny spark of corruption had touched me, and in my wooden skin I saw it laid bare and began to heal it.
Colors around me were brighter, the air was cleaner and again the Earth Mother came to me, Wolf trotting by her side. I fell upon them both with tears of grief and shame that I had needed to be reminded, that I had needed to heal that which never should have happened.
"Come child," she whispered in my mind "do not think upon it more." Her touch was cool and clean like a mountain spring. "You did not fail, you misstepped and We were here to help guide you back on your path. Now that you have seen the other way, do not forget it."
I snorted in spite of myself, "I do not think I will forget." I said aloud.
Wolf fur brushed me, and I felt my strength come back to me. I would still heal those around me but never again to the fullest extent sapping my strength with it. I could defend myself once more.
She and the Wolf brushed my mind and the trick of wooden skin was gone, but the memory was there. I would never become so completely focused on death, and the blood bath that I took joy in it.
I could take joy in surviving, to defend, to hunt to feed. I crawled back to the den leaving my guilt of a path lost and rediscovered behind. Joy I took in my Pack, and my family.
I felt Her smile upon me and stood up, knowing I walked true once more.
Feather and Talon
----
Merell returned to Shattrath shortly after wedding two of her clan sibs. The first of such ceremonies she had ever performed. Calling upon the Mother and her elements the dark furred Tauren felt a great peace in her heart and soul.
After an evening working with Keva in Blades Edge she returned again to Nagrand, with it's wide blue sky, rolling meadows and islands in the air. Laying on her back watching the clouds blink and fitz near the islands in the sky she closed her eyes and sank into herself.
Perhaps it is the Dream she finds in these odd moments where the Mother comes to her. Cenarius is with the Mother strolling down an unseen path towards her prone figure. Gracefully the Mother lowers herself to the dark furred Tauren and lays the palm of Her hand against the Taurens heart.
It is time Her voice whispers through Merell's mind.
Cenarius sits at her head and lays his hands on her temples. With the Mother's consent he begins.
Merell is whisked in her mind further... deeper into the Dream. Green diamond scaled dragons soar overhead calling her to join them. She hears Cenarius' voice in her mind.
No, not that form young one. This one. In Merell's mind the form of the golden hawk forms, it's sharp beak, curving talons. Every inch she takes in the form, the light. Step by step, take it in, fix the details in your mind, pour yourself into this image.
With exacting detail Merell memorizes every nuance of the feathered form before her, inside her. The dragons continue to call her. She pushes it asside with some regret and pulls herself into the image, every feather perfectly placed, the wind ruffling the light down on her chest. Her talons sinking into the soft earth. She blinks a couple times, shifting her head to better see things around her.
The Mother's hand on her chest is now scratching the warm down of her feathers and smoothing them back into place while Cenarius' hands at her temples lay flat and run down her back to her tail feathers.
Go child of mine, go learn your feathers. the Mother's warm caress of a voice fills the Taruen's soul.
With a cry of joy Merell is lifted into the air by Cenarius and tossed into the air, striking her wings to either side she flaps, and drops a little too low. Finally after some desperate flapping she learns to scoop the air with her wings, to push it down, and herself up. Ever upward to the great flying things in the air above her. They call out to her roaring in greeting. She cries out in return and together they wheel through the air of the Dream.
She is reminded of what is the root of her world. This deadly and beautiful paradise is what she and her Tribe fight to restore, to keep, to defend. With the bloodshed never ending it is hard to remember what lays beyond her own survival and that of the Tribe.
Reeling through the air she plays for a time a game of catch the dragon that soon dissolves into chase the hawk. Though playful she learned the sharp maneuvering necessary to defend herself in the air from above, and below.
She dives towards the figures on the ground, the Mother and Cenarius. Cupping her wings at the last minute she back beats to land on the ground.
"I See Mother" she says to the glowing form of the Mother.
The Mother nods That is good. Time will call for your strength of wing, to scout, to escape what cannot be fought. Use it to defend this land, this home and those others you make your own. Her hand comes out to cup the beak as she bends to brush lips of energy across the hawk's crown.
It is time to return to sleep, to the other place. Never forget one is as real as the other. Cenarius says in farewell.
As the forms around her dissolve she lets go of the hawk to simply lay furred once more upon the ground. Blinking she opens her eyes briefly to the sky above Nagrand. Content she closes her eyes yet again and sinks into true sleep and rest.
Aldor and Scryer
----
Merell met with the robed man beneath one of the Sha'tar of Shattrath city and was walking along with his familiar. He told a story of how a great many blood elves have come to the city seemingly to do battle as directed by Prince Kael'thas yet as one laid down their arms and threw themselves upon the mercy of the Sha'tar. Merell at once saw sence in the furtiveness of the Scryer folk in the city. Merell remained suspicious of such a powerful holy order of Aldor. The poor world had enough problems with the Burning Legions without adding religious intolerance as well.
In her time spent with the Scryers she fell in love with the libraries there, the instructors. Especially the ones who taught her how to bless items with the Earth Mother's touch.
Her heart broke a little with the small child whispering how he was a Scryer and therefore subject to suspicion in the predominantly Aldor city. Merell wondered how peace was kept till she went back to the robed one beneath the Sha'tar. Then she knew how the peace was kept but for one or two slain bodies she'd seen in the city, quickly swept under the rug of politics and policing. The Sha'tar protect the city, and all of it's inhabitants.
Let me harm none that do not offer harm first. she silently prayed to the Mother.
Her mind made up she went into the Scryer's tier later that day after having lived among them for moons and offered her formal allegiance.
"I Merell Feathermane, Pack of the Tribe of Bad Moon Rising, Tauren of the Wildmane clan offer my allegiance to the Scryers."
To Merell the eons of study the Aldor have maintained in their fight against the great enemy was worthy and a right thing to do. However, Was it not more honorable to learn the path you walk is evil, and change your path? 
Sisters
----
Merell took a moment to pause before the Moonwell in Zangermarsh listening to the spirits as they greeted her. She had been out hunting with Dakana and Yig once more late into the moon's noon hour. As she often did as she came to the Moonwell's across the world Merell spoke to her sister, taken first in the slaughter that had made Merell and Orphan.
"Good evening little one." Merell's voice crooned to the pool before her. As many times before Nightbloom answered. "Good evening Merell."
And so the hours were passed by the pool speaking with the spirit of her dead sister, her voice most strong by the Moonwell's of the world. Merell told stories of the new family she had met, the Tribe and talked of the various members to her little sister's spirit.
Of one Pack Mate there were many stories, Dakana. The warrior spirit in the girls body. Of near death experiences, laughter and tears Merell told of Dakana and her travels to her sister.
"I would have liked to have known this Dakana, Elder Sib." her voice drifted from the Moonwell. " I think she is your sister now, and mine too in a way."
Time in the Dream had made Nightbloom wiser than ever she should have been. Merell came to think of Moonwells as portals to the Dream, where the sprits of the Ancestors, of the world and universe could be heard if you listened correctly.
Days would pass and Merell would find herself yet again telling more stories of Dakana to her sister, then the weeks flew by, the months and Dakana and Merell grew in power together. All that was shared was related to the voice of her sister through the Moonwell's door.
"Nightbloom" Merell paused looking to the surface of the Moonwell imagining her sister's face. "I have some what I need to ask you about." Merell blew air out of her nose and mouth and shook her head. "I want to adopt Dakana as my sister. She would be your sister too, and for this I need your blessing."
The pool's surface was quiet for a long time when suddenly color flared in it's surface, the pool a swirl of purple, blue and green. Arcs of color and liquid jumped through the pool like happy birds swooping into a full pond.
Nightbloom's voice spoke as the colors faded "It has taken you this long to see the bond you share? I say it's about time Elder Sib, and I am happy for you."
Tears filled Merell's eyes as she felt the energy from the Moonwell rise up and envelop her squeezing tightly as if her sisters arms were around her once more in the flesh.
"Go to her Merell, bring her to the clan and to me. I want to meet my new sister."
Knuckling tears from her eyes Merell smiled and took form of the swift hawk and few out to find Dakana and ask her a very important question.
((Please note these are a collection of short stories written throughout Merell's life thus far, some are written by her, some in third person. This is not the end and I hope that more will be added soon. All writing by Misty Newman, Screen shot of Merell on TB server by Misty Newman.))
Category:Tauren
Category:Druid
Category:Horde Stories