Leral Firefang stood alone, thinking for a long time. The questions he had asked did not require Shawn's answers. He had answers of his own.
He understood druids better than anyone, and he understood the members of the Cenarion Circle.
With their eternal lives, those druids often slept in the Emerald Dream for decades, centuries, or even millennia at a time. They had never considered the worgen's banishment such a terrible thing.
Why not simply treat it as a long slumber?
Even if that slumber lasted ten thousand years, what of it?
It was merely longer than most druids' slumbers.
But they had forgotten that choosing to sleep and being forced into slumber were two different things.
One could awaken at any time, while the other could never awaken freely.
We were all druids. Just because druids like us chose wolf form and struggled to control the frenzy in our hearts on the battlefield, we had to suffer so much unfair treatment... Yet they forgot that not a single Druid of the Scythe had ever gone berserk before entering the battlefield.
War drove people mad. Were the Druids of the Scythe the only ones who went mad?
And who ever gave the Druids of the Scythe the time or opportunity to control the wild power within them?
Besides, after all these years, why had they never thought of rescuing us? Was it really... really impossible?
A flame called anger blazed in Leral's heart. His yearning for freedom fed it.
He suddenly reached out, and a powerful force surged toward Shawn. He wanted to seize the Scythe of Elune from Shawn's hands. With its power, he could free himself and all the other worgen.
Shawn jumped in alarm.
He instinctively backed away, only to discover that Leral's power had not reached