This story is dedicated to all my lovely Horde readers (though I hope my Alliance friends like it too). Enjoy <3

“Throm’ka and at ease, soldier.”

“Throm’ka,” replied a young and snowy white tauren, dressed in mail and accompanied by a red lynx the color of a bonfire in the night. The cat’s yellow eyes glowed in the morning mists and the tauren’s breaths made puffs in the crisp air at Agmar’s Hammer. “Have you need of me today, sir?”

“We are always in need of meat from the elk to replenish our stocks,” replied Overlord Agmar gruffly. He must’ve noticed the ever-so-slight slump in the tauren’s shoulders, as hard as she tried to hide it, and it was this that caused Agmar to place a heavy, scarred green hand on her shoulder and say “Daughter of the Horde. You have done much with your diplomatic skills to help bring the Taunka into the fold. And you are a talented hunter who trains hard. This, anyone can see. But you are not yet ready to advance to our next outpost. Remember: all that you do here is in service of the Warchief and is as important as anything else in this war. Your time will come. Now be strong! Lok’tar Ogar!”

“Lok’tar Ogar!” replied the Tauren, feeling a bit revitalized and throwing a salute. Then she turned and headed out of the keep, her crimson cat right beside her.

Once out of the gates of Agmar’s Hammer she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing the power and warmth of the sunrise into her spirit and chilled body, and then pulled her prize Talbuk out of the nearby stables and headed southwest, where she knew by experience there were plenty of elk.

It wasn’t long before she spotted the plentiful herds of Snowfall Elk roving among the trees, trying to pick what forage they could from the snow and ice. As always, the tauren was a little disappointed by the lack of challenge they offered. Oh, the big ones put up enough of a fight sometimes, but with the help of her lynx who was growing ever stronger (much to his master’s great pride), this particular hunt wasn’t exactly something she could hone her skills on. As such, she was probably paying a little less attention than usual that day, slipping off of her Talbuk at a spot near a particularly large tree and deftly preparing her ammunition for the upcoming encounter. Her cat paced a little beside her, eager for action, and the tauren muttered “Patience, Alyosha… patience” to sooth him. He calmed down a little, and the hunter notched the arrow to her bow and aimed, ready to give Alyosha the command…

A flash beside her.

She whirled around to see a mass of feathers and fur: Alyosha tussling with a gray blur with a sharp blue beak. The tauren, who knew a good deal about the wildlife of Azeroth, only needed a second to register that whatever creature it was was not native to this region, which meant…

“Back, Tux,” a voice rang out. The elk scattered, and standing between the trees was a night elf, her skin a light, wintry blue, her hair a garish bluegreen, her armor well-crafted and intricately designed, albeit rather dirty, and her exquisite and deadly rifle pointed at the tauren’s heart. Her owl was perched beside her in a heartbeat, never once blinking or taking his eyes off of Alyosha’s, who, similarly, was standing by his master’s side, staring back unwaveringly. The tauren, though, was caught, like a small animal in one of her own traps. She had been reckless and now was paying the price. She could only hope for a swift death at the hands of her enemy, then, to avoid the dishonor of having made such a terrible, shameful mistake…

“Do you speak Common?” asked the night elf abruptly, in a voice that was clear but somewhat harsh in timbre, like the squawk of a crow.

The young tauren gulped, surprised at this twist. Best not to show fear, she decided at last. Perhaps she could trick her opponent into thinking that she had more with her. “Yes,” she replied as calmly as she could. “Some.”

The night elf seemed to nod slightly before letting out a chuckle and lowering her gun, though not her guard. “Relax kid… I’m not gonna kill ya. Out hunting, were you?”

The tauren blinked. Was it a trick? She briefly considered taking the opportunity to lift her own bow but then realized that the owl’s gaze was still boring into the back of Alyosha’s skull, and the night elf’s armor– no doubt granted to her from various generals and politicians for a variety of great feats and heroism– was a sign that this particular hunter’s skill far outmatched her own. No, she had no choice but to play along and see what happened.

“Elk,” she said simply.

The night elf nodded and spat a piece of bark gum into the snow. As she did so, her owl relaxed his gaze a little and stretched his wings, and the tauren marveled at the bond the two seemed to share and the synchronization of their movements and emotions. The elf was clearly of the school of beast mastery hunting, as was the tauren herself, and to truly become one with one’s companion was the goal of all beast masters everywhere– a goal that the owl and his master had clearly reached. “I’m Tawyn”, the elf said finally, kneeling down on the ground. “A hunter. And you…?”

The tauren was quiet. Should she trust this elf with her name? It was rare for her to come across one that wasn’t trying to kill her.

It was as if Tawyn could read her mind, and she snorted. “Look. It’s clear to me that we are both of the same mind. I can see that. And you’d have to be mighty ignorant not to see the same. Why would I want to harm you? There’s few of us in this world anymore to begin with.”

“You might be lying,” said the tauren.

“Perhaps. Everyone lies. And everyone jumps to conclusions.”

A brief moment of silence as the tauren chewed this over. Finally, she sat down herself and said “In my language I am called Mu’sha Nitawa; the Weapon of the Moon. In yours… Lunapike.”

“Big name.”

“It was given to me by a shaman at my birth. It had something to do with my… my colorings. You do not see many of us in my tribe that are pure white.”

“So they got big expectations for ya, don’t they?”

Lunapike was silent. She found herself judging the night elf’s expression. Her gaze was intense and somewhat stormy, but not unfriendly, and above all a sincerity seemed to lie therin. And so finally the Tauren continued. “I was supposed to be a mighty warrior, like my father and mother. But I chose to follow the path of the Great Hunt– and travel far away to befriend the creature I saw in my dreams, a cat the color of sunfire…” she broke off as she reached over to gently pat Alyosha. “My parents… thought I should do what I felt was right. The rest of my tribe was not so understanding. So I left. Now I travel and fight for the Horde.”

Tawyn nodded. “So that is why you are in Northrend?”

“Yes.”

“Hrmm,” grunted the night elf, lazily scratching an arm. Lunapike couldn’t help but notice how distinctly… un-night-elf-like she was. Surely she must have an interesting story behind her, thought the tauren.

“Why are you here?” Lunapike ventured.

“Me?”

“You.”

Tawyn chuckled. “I shoot things. Those things die. I get paid for it. And then I can buy ale for me and good quality meat for Tux here.” She ruffled her owl’s headfeathers and for the first time in their meeting thus far, Lunapike saw a lightness in the night elf’s eyes and an extreme tenderness in her touch.

“That is why you are here now, perhaps. There must be something that drew you here, initially, when the land was still raw…” hinted the tauren. “Something, or someone, or…”

“Sheddup! I’m a hunter, I walk alone, ya hear?” Tawyn barked, eyes flashing, and Lunapike, taken aback by the sudden outburst, dropped it.

Tawyn leaned her back against a tree trunk and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She had regained her composure surprisingly quickly, it seemed. “Got tired of the politics. I live in Stormwind, ya see. I live among the humans, having long ago left my kind. But these days, y’see it everywhere, among every race. Hypocrisy. I wanted out. Northrend seemed like a good place to go. So here I am, and here I stay, for now.” She shrugged. Lunapike thought she saw something in the elf’s face that hinted at more, but she couldn’t be entirely sure, and she knew better than to suggest it again. So the tauren simply said “I see.”

And for a moment the two hunters sat quietly, their pets keeping watch, as the elk herds slowly started to move back in. At random Tawyn’s eyes flew open at some point and she leaned over toward Lunapike. “Listen. Do you wanna be a hunter? Really wanna be one?”

“Of course,” said Lunapike, a little bemused.

Tawyn paused for a moment and then continued. “I was once told that there were three things that matter to a hunter, and three alone: your pet, your gun, and your wits. To an extent, that is true. But never underestimate the value of a fellow hunter. We’re all we’ve got. We’re all we understand. We’re all we can trust. This supposed war between the Horde and the Alliance… between you and I… this is not as important as making sure the tradition of the hunt always continues.”

Lunapike nodded. “I understand.”

Tawyn stood up and brushed the snow off her legguards. Then she reached a gloved hand down to Lunapike, who took it and let herself be pulled up.

“Now,” said Tawyn, “let’s bag us up some elk.”