Ironclaws

Ironclaws shook out her gray, tangled mane and padded up the steep hill through the forest of Feralas. An overgrown path snaked its way through the undergrowth up the snow-capped mountain. The bright ornaments decorating her braids jingled with every heavy step. Although a beast, she had never felt closer to the Earth Mother. She was more at home in her feral cat form than she was as a tauren. The clearing she reached was filled with sunlight, streaming through the trees and dotting her snow white coat with glistening spots. The soft warmth felt pleasant on her tired back. Stretching, she dug her ivory claws into the soft earth and yawned, showing her knife-sharp teeth that made her a formidable opponent. She sat down on her haunches making the light blue war paint on her shoulders ripple over the tough muscle. The druid raised her horned head up to watch as the trees fluttered in the midday breeze. She looked fierce. Was fierce. But, only when she needed to be. She basked in the warmth of the day for a time, then decided to move on. The large cat slunk out of the clearing toward Camp Mojache.