He jumped lithely from tree to tree, the limbs hardly making a sound. The soft breeze that followed created barely a rustle.
There was an unfamiliar scent in the air, one he had not experienced in quite some time. Magic! Someone nearby had the ability to use the arcane arts. He had to find them.
Deciding to track from the ground, he jumped onto a soft bed of moss, the smell increasing as he finally spotted the figure he had been seeking. A Draenei!
How long had it been since he'd encountered one of their species? A year? Maybe more? She was humming as she plucked the leaves from a silver bush, placing them inside her already bulging pouch.
For the moment, it seemed she hadn't caught sight nor sound of the rogue, that is until he made the mistake of stepping closer and onto a branch. Crack! Too late did he realize when his feet were encased in an icy prison. He looked up to see her fingers glow red as she readied a spell. "Wait! Please," he implored, voice raspy.
She stopped, the glowing diminished and the electric smell of magic dwindled. "Perhaps I should turn you into a sheep," she mused, her accent think and deep. "Why were you sneaking? Speak, dog!"