Despite the featureless mask, Var'Zhul knew.
He could feel it.
This man was having the time of his fucking life at his and his people's expense.
The masked man turned his head toward the lionkin captain, and only two words left his lips.
"Your turn."
Var'Zhul's muscles coiled like a spring, instincts overriding thought. His powerful legs propelled him forward, his aggressively serrated blade poised to tear the man's throat out.
But before he could reach him, the masked man soared.
Like an eagle catching an updraft, he rocketed into the sky.
Var'Zhul landed without ever managing to lay a finger on his target as his sharp eyes tracked the dark figure ascending into the heavens.
"Just what kind of monster is this?!" he cursed with a mighty roar. "Earth, fire, and now damned wind?!"
