In Hellfire Peninsula, I encountered a worgen named Fedjeen Woolnough. He had quite a story to tell, and as I like to collect stories, I wrote his down. I don’t think I’ve ever had to blot so much dog drool off my papers before. He was a slobbery mess, but I can’t remember when I’ve seen anyone so happy.
I never knew how horrible my life was till I lost it. After all, I was just a child when King Greymane built his wall. I was way too young to remember anything other than Gilneas.
I’m sure you know what happened: the worgen curse, the Cataclysm, and all that. No need for me to repeat it. Honestly, I don’t know what happened to my family. I haven’t seen them since I got bit. And that’s sad, but it’s life. I hope they’re well somewhere. Maybe if they read this story, they’ll find me again. Or maybe if they read this story, they won’t want to find me.
But I didn’t set out to tell you about them. I want to tell about my life after the Cataclysm. It’s when I got shoved onto the boat to Darnassus that I realized how horrible my early life had been. Because that’s when I finally had time to notice what was all around me: female worgen.
Turning into a worgen happened so fast, I never really had time to think about it. On the boat, I had time to practice changing forms plus I got to talk to other Gilneans about being worgen. That’s when I noticed the girls. Light bless their furry hides, they were gorgeous! We ran all over the ship, chasing and barking at each other. It was… wow. I don’t know. I’d never felt so free in my life.
Once we got to Darnassus, I admit the guards got after me more than once for disrupting the peace. But I couldn’t help it. There were so many worgen girls to play with. Funny, before the curse, girls hardly noticed me. But after? They were all over me. It was glorious!
One day, I was about to leave the inn when I noticed a Draenei shaman turning into a ghost wolf before she ran out the door. Now, I’d never paid much mind to Draenei before. Kinda weird looking, if you ask me. But when she morphed into that wolf, it was game over for me. Watching her race off, the wind ruffling her thick fur, I was smitten.
Now I had even more choices. Worgen and shaman. Draenei or dwarf, didn’t bother me. And there were druids, too. Bears, cats, or dogs, I didn’t care. Just as long as they had fur. Some people hated being worgen, but they didn’t see. It was so different from being shut up behind Greymane’s wall. I could go anywhere, do anything. Running on all fours was so liberating! And not having to wear clothes…
(Fedjeen shakes his head in amazement, plainly lost for words.)
I left Darnassus after a few weeks to see more of the world – a world I had been denied my whole life. I ran through Darkshore, exploring everything. Then one of my friends suggested we go to Warsong Gulch, to take part in the battle there. It was wilder than wild. Everybody running everywhere, us trying to kill the Horde, and the Horde trying to kill us. What a thrilling experience! But then, in the middle of the battleground, I saw her. The most beautiful fur-covered creature ever made. I know I stood there like a damned fool, staring, but how could I help it? She was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Standing well over 7 feet tall, she was covered with what looked like the softest brown fur I could ever imagine. I wanted to touch her so bad! I looked up into her face and saw the biggest, sweetest brown eyes that ever existed. And her hair… long black braids, hanging down almost to her waist. Her braids swung out as she moved. Too late I saw the mace in her hand. Her mace hit me hard on the side of my head, and I was down for the count.
When I came to, one of my shaman friends was beside me with a healing totem. I could tell she was trying not to laugh as she explained to me that what I saw was a Tauren. A member of the Horde. Someone who would try to kill me on sight. But I didn’t care. She was beautiful.
As time went by, I saw more lands and many more Tauren. I fought on more battlegrounds than I could count. Every time I saw a female Tauren, I would smile or wave or even bow down politely. And every time, whoever she was, she would try to kill me.
It was discouraging, to say the least, and as the months went by, I got more depressed. I should never have left Gilneas, if all I was to find was heartbreak. Some of my furry friends would try to pull me out of my depression, but they just didn’t have the same attraction for me that they used to. I just had to meet a Tauren. I had to talk to one of them. What was it like to be in animal form all the time? Was their fur truly as soft as it looked? And those muscles! Tauren were so big and yet so graceful when they moved. Like music, almost.
Finally a friend convinced me to go to Outland. It was a whole different planet, a new adventure, maybe it would cheer me up. He assured me the Horde would be there, too, along with some Tauren. I didn’t really care, but I went, anyway.
Hellfire Peninsula was a horrible place, full of demons and wild animals and a giant Fel Reaver we had to look out for constantly. The land was dark orange and red and angry. It suited my mood. I didn’t pay much attention to what I was doing. People would ask me to kill demons for them, or kill animals, and I did. Killing them felt good. It didn’t help my mood any, but it felt good.
Then one day at Telhamat Temple, one of the Draenei sent me on yet another quest. He wanted me to offer my services to some dame at the Cenarion Post who wanted help. All I could think was what was wrong with these people? Why did they always need help? Couldn’t they do anything on their own?
But I had nothing better to do, so I made my way over to the Cenarion Post. But something was wrong. The ‘post’ was no more than a big rock and a small arbor. Standing there were a couple of Tauren and a night elf. I was confused. The Draenei had specifically told me I was supposed to report to a female, but the only female here was a Tauren. I was like, wtf?
Then it happened. The most miraculous thing ever in my life. The female Tauren spoke to me. In Common, no less, not that Horde gobbledly-gook. I will never forget her words: “Oh, goodness, you must be the help that I requested from the Temple of Telhamat. I’m glad that you’re here; there’s a lot to be done, and I have just the thing to start you out.”
Her name was Thiah Redmane, and her voice was soft and gentle as falling snow. She was glad I was here, and she wanted help collecting blood from some of the corrupted helboars in the area. She didn’t have to ask twice. I ran to complete the job, and returned the blood samples as fast as I could. She smiled at me. Can you imagine?! A Tauren smiled at me!
I offered her any help I could give. I brought food for her and her companions. I fetched firewood. I even cooked for them. Why, just yesterday, Thiah agreed to go on a picnic with me. I packed us up a lunch, and we sat atop a small mountain, just the two of us, gazing up at Outland’s incredibly gorgeous sky and talking about nothing in particular. Best part of it was when I ‘accidentally’ brushed my hand against her arm. Her fur was every bit as soft as it looked.
I tell you for sure, coming here was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I may never leave Hellfire Peninsula. I sure am one lucky dog.
Dedicated to Scout Utvoch.