((This is a bit... or rather a lot... back logged. But alas, I promised to post it!))

Saashenka didn't know how long they had been running. Time was a foreign concept to her current state of mind. One might have said she was blinded in her wrath, however the metaphor would only have worked were it not already a literal obstacle. Any notion of time was lost to the thundering drone of hooves hitting the hardened snow with every stride the Talbuk took.

The wind was frigid and painful as it whipped past her face. As it stung, she swore she could hear it screaming. She found herself fighting to ignore it, and the blackness that was closing in around her as they made their decent. Onkuru's aura was quickly becoming the only flicker of light, and she watched it surge and ebb with exertion, in time with the fall of his hooves.

She didn't know where they were going, and for the moment, she didn't care. Just as long as it was away. Far away.

Her hands gripped the Talbuk's reigns so tightly, her knuckles paled. The utter senses of betrayal, hurt, and anger were clouding her mind. She was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else, and succumbed to focus on the wail of the wind instead. What it carried was no more comforting. And while it was not entirely a welcome distraction, it was one that occupied her mind from the reason she had stormed from Merry and Zaanthe's cabin in such a furious rush. A reason she wouldn't bother to give a name.

A cry sounded from Onkuru, slicing through the roar of the wind, and penetrating her thoughts. She could feel the talbuk stumble, and give way. Suddenly, there was nothing between her. She was falling through the air. It was a terrifying eternity before the small draenei hit the ground. She sank into the snow with a scream. Her hands fumbled instinctively, searching for anything to grasp. There was nothing.

Panic over whelmed her. It quelled only slightly once she felt the vibrations of the Talbuk trotting toward her. She could feel his presence, and hear his frantic knickers. “Onkuru!” she called, breathlessly, to the frightened animal, reaching from the drift in which she was caught. His reigns brushed her fingertips. She grabbed them tightly with both hands. The Talbuk wasted no time in pulling her from the hole, tossing his head and stamping his hooves with the effort. And what seemed like a thousand, freezing moments, Saashenka broke free.

Her body shook from the cold, and from her fear as she scrambled toward the Talbuk's aura. She threw her arms about his neck, once she found it, and held tightly. Perhaps it was out of the thought that if she didn't, she might be pulled down into the frigid depths once more.

It took a long moment for the tiny priestess to regain her breath. Her fingers tangled in the beast's fur, finding the warmth comforting. She could feel Onkuru nuzzle her back with his snout, trying to be of assurance. It was a fleeting consolation.

Silence fell around them. It was thick, and almost suffocating. It only served to bring back that unsettling feeling. Reluctantly, she pulled away. Her robes and cloak were heavy, soaked from her fall. They were cold. So very cold.

And it was only then that she realized how dark the world had become. While she could not see, she had be come so accustomed to the flickers of the aura of living things, and the light they gave. No cloud of color greeted her. Only emptiness. Only darkness. It terrified her. Panic was returning, and her small chest heaved with every breath.

She was lost. And there was nothing to give her bearings. She did not know where she was, or where she was going. And she was alone. So very alone. It felt as though the world was closing in on her, threatening to crush her very existence. And it was terrifying.

It was a mistake. A stupid mistake. By the Naaru, she was so stupid, wasn't she?

Saashenka heaved a solitary sob. The tears that managed to leave her eyes stung from the cold as they rolled down her freckled cheeks. But she was quick to gain her composure. Crying would solve nothing. It would only make things so much worse.

With a labored inhale, she felt her way along Onkuru's side, searching for the saddle. Something made her pause; the muffled sound of voices just to her right. Her head turned. She strafed right. They were getting louder. They were coming from one of the saddle bags.

With a surge of energy, her shaking hands found the clasp of the foremost bag, and quickly began to rifle through the contents. It wasn't long before the faint glow of arcane made its presence known. The voices had become clearer. They were emanating from the soft orb of power. She could see it's soft blue light thrumming in the darkness. A communication stone.

“Hello?” She called, frantically, her hands cupping around the warm rock. “Hello?”

The voices went silent. Saashenka's chest grew tight.

Finally, there was an answer, in the form of a gruff, and unfamiliar male voice. “Hello? Who is there? State your name.”

The relief the little priestess felt was enough to make her fumble the stone. She was quick to catch it. “Name is Saashenka!” She called into the stone in a heavily accented Common. She hoped it was understandable. “Am lost! Please help!” She didn't know who she was hailing. And frankly, she wasn't sure if it was the best idea. But it was something. And something was more than what she had moments before.

The voice came once more, “Saashenka. My name is Kanta Wildsabre. I've located your position. I'm coming for you. Don't move. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Yes, yes!” The small draenei managed. She held the stone close, and pressed her back against the patient talbuk.

It was a faint flicker of hope, but it was a flicker all the same. It calmed her, and reassured her. She found her mind clearing.

“Well... Onkuru...” Slowly, she returned to the saddle bag. Her hands felt their way to the roll of blankets at the back of the saddle. “I suppose this is where we stay for the night...”

The talbuk gave a soft snort.

“...I'm sorry...” Her whisper was lost to the wind.