Full Circle

Thunder Bluff was all but deserted as the late night moon shined down on the sleeping lodges. A Bluffwatcher would make his way down the traveled paths of the mesas, dutifully keeping an eye out for hostile intruders, but otherwise no one stirred. No one except two Shu'halo silhouettes making their way silently to Elder Rise. The pair stalked across the long swinging bridge. With a squeeze of Milanna's hand and a grin, Mograg said, "I wonder how long before Slyvos finds us." He chuckled lightly. The druid peered around and grinned lopsidedly.

"Knowing him... he could be stalking us right now." She glanced behind her as they reached the other end of the bridge, as though the stalker in question would appear at any moment.

"Just waiting for the right moment to pounce," Mograg nodded. They walked across the rise to their destination, a small copse of trees near the edge. "It's been a while, but it has been time very well spent." He smiled and pulled Milanna close to him for a kiss. She returned it, then looked up at him coyly before turning her gaze to the edge of the rise by the trees. She smiled softly to herself as she nodded in agreement.

They had spent the last weeks together, apart from the rest of the world. They had become closer still than they had been. Their love for one another was venerated in nature, and they had stolen back into the civilized world as husband and wife. This trip, though, would leave their loved ones none the wiser. This time was still theirs. The only hint that they had returned, if only for a moment, was a well-penned scroll prepared over a month ago just for this occasion. It had been addressed to Kormok. As they had passed by, Mograg slipped it into the mail.

Milanna gave Mograg's hand a squeeze before kneeling down to search through her knapsack. For once it didn't appear laden with whatever items she normally kept with her; she had brought only what was necessary for these times. Soon enough she pulled out a small package and unwrapped it carefully. Milanna went over to the larger of the trees and set two small linen dolls, shaped as a male and female tauren, on the ground facing the mountains of Mulgore. She stood back up and returned to Mograg's side, smiling just a bit.

"I... used to make dolls to play with when I was little," she explained very softly. "I worked on these the last two nights, while you slept... they will symbolize, well... us, and our spot here... and..." She pointed in the same direction the dolls were facing, where Mograg had single-handedly built their new home. She smiled up at him again.

Mograg returned her smile. He put his arm around her, pulling her into him. "Very nice, Nayeli." He looked toward their home. Although his eyes could not see it directly, he was able to use the sight of a nearby owl to look in on their camp. His eyes now looked at Milanna just before he pressed his lips to hers. The druid looked up at him after the kiss, the blush on her muzzle quite visible in the moonlight. Regardless, she kissed him again and held him.

"I am glad you think so... there are, ah, actually some more in my knapsack... for other spots we visit..." She smiled a bit sheepishly.

Mograg chuckled. "Really, now? Where shall we head next?" He eyed her knapsack a moment. "Looks like we have a few places to visit." She turned her head toward her pack and saw some of the dolls' heads peeking out like curious critters. Her only reaction was another sheepish smile as she tugged on his hand.

"You'll see." Mograg chuckled again, grinning as she lead him away into the night.

Milanna led him first to Ratchet to set sail for Stranglethorn. Two sections of the jungle found doll companions that night: the pond near the entrance to the goblin city of Booty Bay, and a rock ledge overlooking one of Stranglethorn's majestic waterfalls. A trek north along the coastline brought them to the human region of Westfall. As the first light of morning, the farmer woman Daphne Stilwell stepped out of her humble home and looked down to see two small Shu'halo dolls by her doorstep. She looked around her farm for the culprit, but the pair was long gone by then.

Tiny tauren appeared all around Azeroth, as far north as Revantusk and as far west as the elf lands. Soon enough some appeared even in the Outlands. Yet somehow, no one knew where they had come from, or why. The only clues were large hoofprints and pawprints that disappeared not far from where any doll was placed.

Their last stop was not far at all from their start--the Mulgore fairgrounds. However, this place would not get a doll; a nearby rock found itself a guest of Red Hot Wings wrapped in parchment paper. Milanna smirked impishly up at Mograg.

"I probably don't have to say... how hard it was not to eat those before tonight."

"For you, maybe. Gunnar still won't go near them," he grinned. "Very appropriate, love." He smiled lovingly at Milanna, his mind brought back to the first time he had seen her. It had been here, of course. The Darkmoon Faire was in full swing. They were among the hopefuls under consideration by the Tears of Draenor at the time. Both had come to be among them and to try to find their place. There she had been, in a festival dress, turning shyly away from the crowd to suck the hot sauce off her fingertips. He remembered calling out to her across the fairgrounds, and how she had blushed in response.

Milanna's thoughts matched Mograg's as she looked around the grounds, that same blush and a soft smile on her face. She took Mograg's hand in both of hers and leaned against him, still gazing at the well-worn earth.

"Believe it or not... I have no more dolls." Mograg smiled.

"And just in time, love. We're home again."

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Across the Threshold

Mograg smiled widely as they crossed the ridge. With his free hand, he pointed into the distance. He squeezed Milanna's hand lovingly. "There it is, Nayeli." His tail started to move a little faster than usual. Pride and excitement welled up in him. He knew she would soon see the fruits of his weeks of hard labor. He looked over at her and grinned, anticipating her reaction.

Milanna squinted in the direction he indicated, her own tail twitching in anticipation of this surprise. After a few moments, she blinked and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Is that... is that a lodge, way up here? I wonder who lives there..." She peered at it again in curiosity.

He chuckled and squeezed Milanna's hand once more. "Us, my love. Us." He watched her face, the grin still on his. She turned her head slowly toward him, eyes wide again. She stared at him for a few moments before speaking.

"U-Us?" Another pause. "Did you... did you... did you build it?"

Mograg chuckled again. "Don't sound so surprised, Nayeli." He grinned at her playfully. She laughed, shortly but heartily, before smiling up at him.

"I didn't mean it that way... I meant... gracious, way up here! How did you keep such a secret from me?" She giggled, squeezing his hand in both hers.

"It wasn't easy, love, believe me. Any part of that, actually. Once I brought the materials up here, it wasn't so hard, though. I've spent the bulk of our time apart on this. While you were away visiting Emlyn, I was, well, up here. Or bringing things here, or gathering things to bring here." He chuckled again. "Little by little, for a long while now, I've been building this for you, love. For us." He smiled lovingly into her eyes. "And by the look in your eyes, it was worth every effort and more." The druid grinned widely, just a hint of moisture in her eyes, and she threw her arms around the hunter for a tight hug.

"It's... it's amazing," she whispered into his good ear. "I know it's not the best word for it, but, I'm not sure there is a word, for what I want to say..." She pulled back just enough to give him a soft peck on the muzzle and smile coyly at him. "Can we... can we see it up close?"

Mograg smiled, "Of course, my love." He squeezed her hand gently and walked with her across the ridge and down the easy descent to the plateau below them. They stood side by side, looking over the camp. Mograg and Milanna had only reached the plateau when an overly friendly wolf darted out from the inside of the lodge, yapping and barking as if he had not seen Mograg in ages. With a chuckle he patted the wolf on his head. "You'll have to wait until we eat, boy. And don't pretend you haven't been hunting anyway. I can smell it on your breath, Hollowgut." He returned his attention to Milanna and smiled, "Welcome home."

Milanna giggled and knelt to give Gunnar a good scratch behind the ears when he bounded up to them, standing when Mograg spoke to her again. She smiled lovingly at him before looking slowly over the camp that was Mograg's handiwork. "Home..." she said softly, a distant look in her eyes. Finally, she reached for Mograg's hand with both her own once again and stretched up on her hooves to give him a soft kiss.

He met her kiss softly and sweetly. After a lingering moment, he spoke once more, "Come, Nayeli. Let me show you around." He pointed out several of the large vessels that surrounded the lodge and told her the contents of each. He had stocked the camp well with various foods and large barrels of water. He lead her past the stack of wood, already prepared to be lit into a bonfire for their first evening, to the door of the lodge. He pulled back the covering of the door and secured it as he let her take her first peek inside.

The lodge was a bit over-sized for just the two of them. Mograg had wanted it that way, even though it had cost him considerably in time, effort, and materials to make it so. The parts of the lodge furthest from the door were dedicated to storing various provisions. Smaller barrels which presumably held dry goods accompanied all the basic domestic tools, as well as several luxury items. His eye had certainly been more for functionality and less for form. While well stocked, the lodge was sparsely decorated. The few items of any aesthetic value that he had brought were largely limited to blankets and rugs that he had bought from the artisans on Thunder Bluff.

The young druid poked her head in and looked around before taking a step inside. Slowly she made her way around the lodge, peering closely at anything and everything she spotted. None of the barrels were safe from her curious gaze as she peeked inside anything with a hollow middle. After every inch of the dwelling had been scrutinized, she finally turned to Mograg with a bright smile, her ears perked and tail swishing happily.

Mograg returned her smile in kind. He took both her hands in his and leaned down to kiss Milanna. "I'm glad you like it, my love." She giggled softly, then looked up at him with a glint in her eye.

"Did you ever think I wouldn't?"

"You never know," he grinned playfully. "But I had a feeling you might like it." Milanna giggled again.

"Well, you were right!" She stretched up once again on her hooves to give him a kiss.

Mograg smiled lovingly into her eyes and held her tight. "It's been tough not telling you about this." He grinned. "So many times I wanted to bring you up here. You remember the night on the Bluff when I was staring off into the distance?" He chuckled lightly. "This place is where I was looking. I thought I'd take a peek to make sure that everything was where I left it." She smiled warmly.

"I remember..." Suddenly the druid looked curious. "If... if you can see this spot from the Bluff... can you see the Bluff from here?"

Mograg nodded his head and smiled. "You can, love. I'll show you in a moment. I want to light this before it gets much darker." Mograg knelt in front of a copper fire pot in the center of the lodge. It already contained a small supply of kindling ready to be lit. He took up a nearby piece of flint and a steel striking plate and made short work of starting the fire. A warm, orange glow filled the lodge. He placed a domed grating over the fire pot. A trail of smoke drifted lazily upward and out of the lodge.

He stood up again and took Milanna's hand in his with a loving smile. "Come, Nayeli, let me show you the view." With a gentle squeeze of her hand he lead her out of the lodge and toward the edge of the plateau. A short walk down the plateau from their camp the land rose up in a small mound of stone. They walked up, the way lit by Mu'sha over their shoulders. At the top he pointed off into the distance. "The Bluff is easy enough to see, but the details are a bit obscured." Holding tightly onto Mograg's hand, Milanna leaned forward just a bit, squinting into the direction he indicated. After a few moments, she returned to his side with a wide smile.

"I see it! I think I can just make out the windrider totem... maybe..." She peered into the distance again, to make sure.

"That was one of the reasons I wanted to make our camp here, love. It's both close and far enough away." He grinned. Milanna wrapped her arms around him and gave him a soft kiss, before resting her head on that favorite spot on his chest, his arms wrapped around her.

"It's perfect..."

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Finding the Way Home

"I still don't get it! Why are you doing that the hard way instead of using the mine? I could talk to them for ya, you know!" Twizwick Sprocketgrind, the chief engineer for the Venture Company encampment shook his head, grinning as he watched Mograg.

The bull bellowed, "Pride!" His muscles strained as he pulled at the rope, walking away from the side of the cliff. The heavy load at the end of the rope finally made its way over the edge. The skid teetered a bit before its runners bit slightly into the ground of the plateau. Mograg breathed heavily as he took the stopper out of a water skin. He drank nearly half of it. "And, I already get it up this far. More than half the way there. Next one is not as bad."

"You could at least go get that flying machine you're always talking about," retorted Twizwick. "That pride is going to get the better of you. Besides! I want to study it so I can build my own!" Twizwick grinned, "That's the deal, you know. You have to show me how."

"Yes, yes. I remember. But is no good. Flying machine does not fit through mage door of Shattrath. And the demon door, it would fit, but could not get it to Kalimdor. Would need to take it apart and re-build." Mograg stood up again. The whole of his body felt like it was burning. Sweat slicked fur clung to his body. Getting the supplies up to the lower plateau had not seemed so much like work.

"So, why not try that?" Twizwick chimed.

Mograg put the water skin away and started pulling at the rope again, hauling the skid over to the next cliff he would pull it up. With a grunt and a smirk the bull replied, "Too lazy."

"Too lazy?" Twizwick asked incredulously. The goblin laughed heartily, shaking his head. "You're alright, bull. I don't care what they say!"

"And what do they say?" Mograg asked, unloading the skid.

"There's a rumor floating about that you came into the mine a little more than two years ago and really did some damage," replied Twizwick. It was true enough, but Mograg regarded the information impassively. "No one really remembers, though. You have any idea how often the crew changes out around here? Besides, you all look the same to us," the goblin chuckled. He elicited no more than a disinterested grunt from Mograg.

Mograg had already spent much of the day, and would continue late into the night in the same manner. He would reload the skid with supplies. Some had been purchased, some he had gathered himself. Once the rigging that held the load to the skid was secured, he'd attach the rope. At the other end was the large hook. The hooked end was tossed to the next plateau and secured in place. He would then find his way up to the next plateau. Sometimes a hard climb seemed the easiest way. Other times, he would rely on his raptor. Once on the plateau above, he'd pull the skid up to him and make his way back down again to begin anew.

Most of the time, Mograg had not had to contend with the audience of the lone goblin. While his body labored, his mind often drifted to recollections of the last several months. Much had changed in his life, more than he had expected would. He had seen little of the young shaman Winatsha before Slyvos had disappeared. He had seen her only twice in the months since. On the last occasion, she told him that she did not know next when she would see him, and that she no longer held him to any of his promises. He in turn released her from promises she had made to him. He did not expect to see her return again as she departed that last time.

It became rare to see those to whom he had been the closest. His long-time friend Slyvos was presumably dead. His Little Sister had taken to seclusion. Others had not come around in so long that some had become merely a fond memory of happier times. Mograg threw himself into his work, and the Beast reveled in it. The Beast had been fighting to take over for so long and now its time had finally come. Each hunt, the Beast took control more often. No longer was it reserved for times when it was absolutely needed. It was given free reign. In doing so, Mograg found that it left him alone away from the hunt, its bloodlust sated. The Beast was still rebellious, but Mograg had found that he could master it by not trying to subjugate it. Mograg began to find an inner calm when he was away from the hunt. He would gather with the clan again in the evenings when he could, and began to share stories and songs from his tribe.

The clan gatherings brought him close to Milanna once more. He had hurt her all too recently. She was still kind to him, more so than he might have been should the situation have been reversed. Mograg was grateful for her kindness and care, even though he thought himself undeserving of either. Over the weeks, she would spend more and more time with him. Their friendship became as it had been before.

It was not long before old feelings had been re-kindled within him, even though his shame prevented him from speaking them. Others had seen them together and would speak of it, but neither would speak to the other of it. A pair of the pale-faced elves they had met on a hunt had taken to calling them "Mr. and Mrs. Bull," only partially in jest. Mograg found that many had assumed she was his wife, and others assumed their relationship was as it had been in the past. Mograg could not bring himself to approach Milanna, for fear he would hurt her more than he already had. It would take an old friend to speak for Mograg when he could not.

Slyvos had returned! He told a story about how he had gone off to a remote island off the coast of Tanaris to study the art of the scribe. It was an altogether strange but good reunion. Mograg had been chastised for burning a hat, almost immediately. The whole of it was taken in stride and, after a few conversations as to his whereabouts, their friendship picked up once more just as it had left off.

It was Slyvos who, ultimately, would speak on Mograg's behalf. After a long conversation with Mograg, Slyvos took it upon himself to begin to push Mograg and Milanna together again. Subtlety, however, was not his primary concern. He had even gone so far one evening as to send them through an elaborate ritual disguised as one of his many games and announced at the end that Milanna and Mograg were now wed. The conversations that ensued as a result of the false wedding were the catalyst.

One evening, Mograg and and Snowee were relaxing on the Bluff near the pond. Snowee was a prospective member of the clan, another Shu'halo who Mograg was helping become acquainted to the clan. He had been asked to do this by Kormok, but Mograg had discovered in her another friend. Moreover, he was happy to find out that she took well to Slyvos. Slyvos' eccentricities sometimes made others uncomfortable, but she seemed to genuinely like him and had quickly become like family to Mograg. They were joined by Milanna, who had stalked up to them nervously as to not disturb them. Shortly after, Slyvos joined them as well.

Once during the course of the evening, Slyvos pulled Milanna aside and spoke to her. When they returned Slyvos said, "Milanna needs to talk to you, Mograggy." Mograg could only guess at what had been said, but he could see that she was easily as uncomfortable now as she had been the evening that Slyvos had decided they were married. Mograg quietly took her on a walk across to the Spirit Rise and there, for the first time in a very long time, they really spoke with one another.

The weeks that followed continued to bring them closer. Milanna and Mograg spent more and more time together. They would remember old times, they would speak of their new friends. The initial tension faded. Small acts of affection began to replace it. All the while, Slyvos and Snowee had taken to one another and their relationship was moving faster than a goblin rocket car on rails. It was not long before it was announced that Snowee was carrying Slyvos' twin children.

It was late in the night when Mograg and Milanna had settled down to sleep. She snuggled into him, her head resting on his chest. As they held one another, Mograg's mind drifted in the dream world between awake and asleep. He was at peace and knew what he would do next. The plans would wait for the morning. It was too late to get started. As he drifted off to sleep a whispered, "Goodnight, Nayeli," caught Milanna by happy surprise. He had not spoken that name since the last time he had called her by it. She lay her head back down again, whispering a goodnight and calling him by the name Takoda.

The next day Mograg set about his new project. First and foremost would be finding a location. He eventually settled on a high plateau after much scouting. There was more than enough land, as many trees as one might hope for in the area, and even a cave nearby that was deep enough to be significantly cooler than the outside. Water would not be easy to come by, but he knew ways around this problem. It was remote, but defensible should the occasion arise.

In time alone, he spent his day gathering the supplies he would need. He haggled with leather workers for cured hides. He purchased the wood that was to serve as the frame. Firewood, a water barrel, baskets, woven rugs, cooking supplies, a butcher's block and cleaver, even implements for a small garden. Each was carefully chosen for its utility and craftsmanship. He saw to it that everything needed was ready.

The long task of moving it would soon be behind him. On the nights where Milanna had gone to see her sister, he would spend those hours and any days he could spare putting it all in place. One day he would have it ready, and then he would bring her here to show her what he had built.

It would be home.

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