Snippet #1985044

Zylith felt a strange pain in her chest. Obviously it was sorrow that she was distrusted.

She removed her hood, revealing a beautiful face. "Guljin, I understand your hatred towards me and my race, but you need to get over it. The forsaken have feelings too." She hissed, clenching her fists in anger. She glared at him when he shivered. "I'll have you know, I lived in Durotar and then Thunder Bluff to get away from all of my race." She stopped slouching herself, and stood up fully. As an elf, she was naturally tall - Maybe an inch off of Guljin. "I mean the Forsaken - None of us chose to be corpses. We all suffered, while your race was showered with praise from the Orcs."

"You better watch your tone around me, Troll." She hissed again, her eyes like light blue flames of rage. She took a step back, and shook her head. "I apologise for the sudden anger. I'll be back in a moment... I need some air." She muttered, barging past Guljin and Arsona.


She sat out on a small patch of grass, and took deep breaths to calm herself down.