"Who was that at the door, Mom?"
"Oh! Uh... nobody, Palintera. Just a ... uh ... someone raising funds for the rehabilitaion of Blood Elves."
"Mom! Was that Feral? Did you tell her I wasn't home again?"
"Now, dear. I don't like you spending so much time with that Feralicious girl. I hear she runs with a rough crowd, rogues and warlocks and other unsavory types."
"I heard she doesn't eat granola, and she has a tatoo!" Piped up my little brother. I glared at him, and reminded myself that turning into bear form and smooshing him would be Wrong.
"But Mom, she's my friend, and she's been helping me train-"
"You know, Palintera dear, Mrs. Moonforest's son Belphon is back from his woodcarving internship. He's such a nice boy. Why don't you ask him to go get an ice-cold glass of milk with you at Miss Danlyia's?"
Yeah. Belphon Moonforest. Sure, he's cute enough. And someday he's going to make some lucky girl a good, stable husband, and give her lots of little sqealing Moonforests to brood over. But you know what? He'd never say to me, "Hay Pali? Wanna go kill a dragon?" and he'd never flash that sly grin at me that makes me want to throw caution to the wind so hard it never comes back.
And he'd never stand there face-to-face with Razormaw, so strong and brave, and completely trusting me to keep the healing spells landing.
And afterwards he'd never- well, actually I don't know. Maybe he would wear a dress. But he wouldn't look so pretty in it.
And Belphon Moonforest the woodcarver is never going to know the thrill of transforming into a wild cat, with speed and power and cunning. Lithe and fierce and stealthy and beautiful eyes and beautiful soft fur like purple velvet wrapped around a steel-forged weapon and a so-contented rumbly purr when you... when... Um. Ahem. Well. He just isn't.
So, Belphon Moonforest isn't for me. I want my 'licious Feral, and if my mother doesn't approve then that is just too darn bad. /humph
Although, I'd really appreciate if you didn't mention any of this to her. Okay? Thanks! Bye!