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[shatteredtrust]

The air was forced from his body as the large white worgen pinned him firmly against the ground. He wheezed, struggling to catch his breath and stop his head from spinning at the force his head hit the ground. Blue dots filled his vision and when they cleared, Khadgar had an intimate view of the other's large and undoubtedly sharp teeth from the snarling make on top of him. There was a sudden stab of fear for himself as the Worgen took to barbed words to attack him.

It was all things Khadgar already told himself, but there was a sickened feeling in the pit of his stomach as he had what he worried over confirmed. Greymane blamed him for the losses that day and he could not deny it either.

Blue eyes closed and the biting pain of his back and shoulders, probably bleeding from the slight slide from the force of the male launching himself at him and bruising from the impact. Stone was cracked and Khadgar wondered how the hell he wasn't dealing with any broken bones from it.

Though, did it really matter?

"Greymane--" He attempted, though cut himself off and opened his eyes to peer up at him with a lost expression. Should he ask him to just get on with killing him? Or were there to be more justified snaps of teeth at him? Did that even matter anymore?

[oldwolf]

There was a brief spark of remorse at the pain his lashing out had caused but the sight of the bones and puddles around them snuffed it before it could become anything beyond just a spark of acknowledgement that he had caused yet another person he had cared for suffering.

A small huff of air escaped him through his nose and he pulled his head back, pulling himself upright to stand in front of the prone mage. "Stormwind wasn't the only place she struck." He stated in a quieter tone than his earlier accusations.

"She destroyed Gilneas before turning her sights south to here. Crowley lost his daughter to that attack. The worgens who were guarding the borders, the adventurers traveling abroad...those few who remained in Darnassus...that is all that remains of my people."

He was grateful that he could blame the roughness of his voice on the form he wore, that the lupine features would hide the more obvious signs of his grief that his human form would have made all too plain.

"All our work to rebuild Gilneas...has been destroyed in a single day."

[shatteredtrust]

The brief look of acknowledgment that Greymane had hurt him made the other hang his mouth in momentary shock and it only grew confused as the other got off of him.all together. He didn't think he could follow the suit of standing up just right then, however, as even the thought of pushing himself to sit had his stomach twisting and downright staging a revolt. So he stayed there in the Archmage shaped dent for a few more moments as he listened to the other things that were said.

Sylvanas had gone after Gilneas, Genn lost his family and the majority of his people. Khadgar's twisting stomach took a more emotional turn instead of it being pain based like ot had been previously. He knew the efforts of rebuilding Gilneas had been taking leaps and bounds, he had helped with some of them personally.

Khadgar steels himself as he pushes himself to sit up, forcing himself not to show how much pain he was in and watches the other with furrowed brows. There wasn't much he could say, no magic spell that could reverse this whole thing and make it right. It bothered him, more than that, it made him want to rip as deep as he could into Sylvanas in retribution.

"I am sorry," he murmurs, gaze fixating on the blue of his robe so he didn't have to look at the other. "You are right. On everything." Well, at least he was admitting he was wrong about the attempts that had been made to make peace between the Horde and Alliance.

[oldwolf]

One hand curled up into a fist, feeling the claws as they dug into palm of his hand. As if to provide more pain to keep him focused and to keep him from reaching out. Giving in was what had brought them to this juncture. If he had remained focused on convincing Anduin that the Forsaken couldn't be trusted instead of giving in to the reasoning that words and offers of peace could make a difference to those abominations...

"Too little. Too late." he finally growled out softly before relaxing the hand, ignoring the blood now freed to run down it and drip off the clawed fingers. Given how little injury he'd suffered while failing both king, country and people, this small of amount of blood shed was nothing.

Turning away from the archmage, the muscles in his legs aided him in launching himself upwards to land upon the rooftop of the wall that surrounded the ruin of the castle garden. It was time to depart he decided. Before he said anything more he couldn't recant, that he would end up later regretting. It was time to find Crowley and focus on Gilneas once more. The rest of the world could go to hell for the moment as far as his grief was concerned. He'd done more than enough to aid the city he'd failed, time to return to his own land and his own people who he'd been distant from for far too long.

He leapt from the rooftop to the tower before him, then down to the surrounding wall, loping down it until landing on the cobbled road before the castle before setting off for the mage quarter, ignoring the stares his current form drew as he passed.

[shatteredtrust]

The Archmage was left to stare at the blur of white and the red that mixed with a near pool of green, hissing its hate for the single soul left to hear it. His voice failed him and though he knew that it was for the best... A small part of him whispered that perhaps he should've tried to stop the man from launching himself off to handle his own grief - handle what was left of his kingdom.

He did not lift himself from the crater he had been the conduit of, the pain that radiated throughout his whole being saw to it being impossible to do more than sit there.

What would Medivh say to him if he saw his trusted apprentices doings? His mind provided him things, slightly comforting things in the midst of the static buzzing radiating through his mind. He would sit there for hours, until the sun rose and then stayed more until the time noon rolled around. It hurt to move, but he was needed.

At least until he felt a force of cold magic send him sliding into a pillar inches left of a green pool and a thundering feminine voice slamming into him. Jaina was relentless in how she tore into him, nor she did allow the force of her magic to relent despite the pain it was causing. He blamed her none for her rage, much as he had not taken any offense with the pain that Greymane had left him with.

Her rage lasted for hours, until she set him down and allowed them to go back to Dalaran, as that was her original purpose. Her verbal jabs came to him at all points during the next week, unrepentant in bringing up the once calming voice in his head that sounded like Medivh and twisting it to say the things he feared about the situation to be right.

However, it is not until he spots a glimpse of the white Worgen through the crowds of a funeral for those lost too soon that he decides to leave with those venomous words in his head and allow himself to grieve alone where he could not hurt anyone else.