While Quel'Thalas basked in bright sunshine, autumn came early to the Ghostlands. Broad leaves drifted down, adding a layer of color to the soil.
"Even though the Ghostlands lie south of Quel'Thalas, winters here are no easier." Every elf who had spent a long time in the Ghostlands would pass this advice on to newcomers. "Quel'Thalas has the Sunwell, so it enjoys spring all year round. Here, you need woolen clothes, boots, and gloves, or you'll be sent back to Silvermoon City swollen all over."
Some elves actually believed the veterans' attempts to frighten the newcomers. Shane received several requests for logistical support and, accommodating his subordinates, compiled them and passed them up the chain. Two clothing shops quietly opened at the outpost.
Sylvanas was the commander, and Vereesa was training with the Farstriders, so the three rarely had time to gather together. Usually, only one of the sisters kept Shane company. Between practicing spells, he listened to their feelings and the things they had done. Their time together was quiet, yet slipped by quickly. Whenever they looked back, they found themselves thinking, It's already so late.
"Vereesa is working harder and harder, but the gap keeps growing."
A sigh reached Shane's ears, waking him from meditation. Brilliant white light filled his vision. When it faded, he saw Sylvanas setting a stack of documents on the table.
"Aren't you leading a patrol?" It was still daytime, so Shane was a little surprised. Like him, Sylvanas never slacked off.
"I left that to Sairon. He's gradually becoming capable of handling things on his own. You, on the other hand, never stop getting stronger. I'm happy for you, but even I feel the pressure, let alone Vereesa. Ah... never mind. You have your reasons. Here's the plan. Take a look."
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