Vaelarian’s hair was still damp when he approached Stardust Spire. It had mostly dried, enough to work out most of the tangles and pull it back into a proper ponytail. He had taken care to wear his best leather as well. He smiled as he approached one of the sentinels. “Hello Avaniel.”
“Hello Vael.” She smiled back and joined him as he continued walking towards the spire. “How have you been? Are the orcs staying out of the hills?”
“I’ve been fine. I haven’t seen many orcs. I still get a scout now and then, but with their reinforcements to Stonetalon halted, their numbers are lower.”
She grinned, knowing fully well who single-handedly sabotaged the zeppelin carrying their reinforcements. “Yes, the spire has been a lot more quiet lately as well.”
“Well with things quieter, I’ve had a little more time to hunt and gather vegetables. Perhaps you would like to join me for stew some night?”
“You forget. You don’t let anyone know the location of your camp. I can’t very well join you if I don’t know where it is.”
He stopped outside the door to the spire. “Would it be okay then, if I came to get you?”
Avaniel smiled. “I’d like that. I’d be free tomorrow night, if you can make it then.”
“I’ll be here.” Vaelarian smiled back. He stepped inside as Avaniel went back to her post. “Any mail?” he asked while looking over some of the spices available for sale.
“Another letter from Dalaran.” The man raised a brow as he handed it to Vaelarian.
“Yes, my granddaughter has gone to stay there. It’s safer than Ashenvale at the moment.” Vael frowned as he opened the letter and started reading. “I need to buy some paper… and postage.” He thought a moment before picking up one of the spice jars and putting it on the counter as well, “And that.” He quickly paid then sat at the table to pen his reply.
All is well here.
Your grandmother is dead. She most likely didn’t die when your father was so young, but I am mostly sure that she is dead now. We weren’t mates.