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At home, Rex never had so many things to worry about. After a hearty meal, he went nowhere, staying at the mansion to keep Rona company.
While Rex enjoyed the warmth of family life at home, Kalimdor, across the sea, was also filled with joy.
Durotar, Kalimdor!
In the vast, narrow valley, hammer blows rumbled out, beating like a pulse.
Thrall leaned forward, the powerful muscles in his shoulders trembling constantly. His right arm swung back and forth, a heavy black hammer gripped in his hand.
He kept swinging it forward with force, sending out a steady clang, clang, clang!
Sweat trickled down the bridge of his nose from his gleaming forehead.
His lips curled upward, revealing his tusks, and he opened his mouth to shout at a brown-skinned orc beside him. "Rexxar, you're slacking off again!"
His booming voice carried far into the distance.
The burly orc with the unusual skin color showed no change of expression. He picked up the black hammer lying beside him and calmly swung it again and again, hammering at the building before him.
The orc was brawny and powerful, perfectly inheriting all the strengths of both ogres and orcs.
Watching his movements, Thrall shook his head gently and continued swinging his hammer.
"Rexxar, my dearest brother, what is it?" Thrall wiped the sweat from his forehead with his muscular arm and looked at the towering figure who had walked over to him.
"Thrall, I've come to say goodbye," Rexxar said solemnly in a low