It was an unnerving, if invaluable, process that the Horde had imported with them when they’d come to Kalimdor. The wispy green man hacked at the bottoms of his hooves, cleaning out the debris. He closed his eyes and relaxed, trying to ignore the disconcerting sounds of the Goblin sitting at the foot of his chair. Furniture, especially furniture sized properly for a Tauren, had been a virtual impossibility in the dense tropical marshlands and overgrown jungles north of the Troll Kingdom of Zul’dazar. He’d spent the past three months on the front-lines, battling Alliance Warriors and Troll blood mages. Abraxian Skycaller sat upon the sturdy chair, allowing his tail to slip through the hole in the back as he sighed in relief.
