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Wingspirit, young Druid
#1
Greetings. I am Wingspirit Calm Winds, Scout in service of the Horde, fourth child and only daughter to Haman Calm Winds and Featherhoof Calm Winds. My calling is that of the Druid.

Though I am young, my teachers have told me I am a gifted learner and that I will make my people proud, so long as I continue to apply myself in an honorable fashion. My parents and my brothers have all made a strong showing for themselves over the years, each of them falling in service to our people, and I feel I must honor them with my own service. To that end, I have begun my training with an emphasis on transformation into beasts, but I have been commended for my healing skills as well. I study the arts of the bandage and the stewpot, with little skill in fishing, but I continue to try. I have some ability to sew cloth, but have nearly bankrupted myself in my ardent study of Enchanting.

Since the death of my eldest brother in Alterac Valley, I have not been a member of any group other than the People of Cairne Bloodhoof and of the Horde. I have seen the actions of members of the Ironsong Tribe, but have never worked up the nerve to speak to one in more than passing. With the preparations for the inevitable war beyond the southern gate, I have begun to realize that I should no longer run alone - that my service will do more good if I am part of a family on whom I can rely and for whom I can provide aid, side by side.

Recently I volunteered with those serving in Warsong Gulch and have been noted for some small skill upon that field, but recently had an awakening during one such battle. The Alliance entered the field once again and I took to battle, unawares that those seeking to oust us from the field were an elite team who far outmatched us. My squad began to fall one-by-one and I found myself surrounded by humans, dwarves, and elves. I fought as hard as I could, donning the most powerful shape I could muster, but my strength was failing. I felt a blade pierce my flank, slicing it wide open, the wound dripping with a viscous green liquid. I fell and attempted to heal the wound, but I drifted away, my last sight to be the Alliance standing over me, laughing as they raised our stolen flag over their heads. I awoke, bleary and weak, some time later and managed to make my way back to friendly territory. I still bear the wicked scar on my leg from the day I realized my own mortality. Since then, I have had urgings of revenge against the alliance, but curiously have never developed any true feelings of hatred for them. In fact, though some may look down upon me for this, one night not long ago, I shared the campfire of an elf I came across in the hills of the Barrens. We could not understand each other's words, but we sat together, and the experience renewed my faith that someday, if we remain true and honorable, the wars may someday end.

Currently, I wish to hone my skills in nature and magic. I wish to make a name for myself, so the spirits of my family will know that I have served well, as they did. I wish to defend my people and my tribe, should I be invited to join, so that our innocents need not fear for their safety.

I enjoy my studies and my explorations - I hope to someday explore the entire land of this world. I enjoy meeting new people, though I admit that I must overcome my shyness in order to truly learn from others. Though I would not consider it enjoyment, I do find a great feeling of satisfaction in serving in the battlegrounds, knowing that I am helping my people by pushing the invaders back from our lands.

((I have read the Code of Conduct, and I agree to abide by the rules stated within.))


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