His family would likely have teased him for the indulgence.
He flinched as he felt the Goblin’s pick dislodge a sharp rock from his hoof, he curious feeling of something being yanked out was a pleasant one but only once the process was finished. He personally found the small fingers and keen eyes of Goblins best suited to the task - though he knew that he paid a steep premium for dealing with the unscrupulous creatures. The fingers of the Tauren were not well suited for delicate work. The practice of cleaning and protecting hooves had appealed greatly to his people, but had proven difficult to implement without outside assistance. They’d brought numerous beasts of burden pillaged from the Human farmlands, including a great many equines and bovines. It was an unnerving, if invaluable, process that the Horde had imported with them when they’d come to Kalimdor. The wispy green man hacked at the bottoms of his hooves, cleaning out the debris. He closed his eyes and relaxed, trying to ignore the disconcerting sounds of the Goblin sitting at the foot of his chair.
Furniture, especially furniture sized properly for a Tauren, had been a virtual impossibility in the dense tropical marshlands and overgrown jungles north of the Troll Kingdom of Zul’dazar. He’d spent the past three months on the front-lines, battling Alliance Warriors and Troll blood mages. Abraxian Skycaller sat upon the sturdy chair, allowing his tail to slip through the hole in the back as he sighed in relief.
0 kommentar(er)
