It is arguable that Mulgor is the most beautiful stretch of land in Kalimdor. Rolling plains of golden green, wandering herds of kodo, majestic mountains, and sky extending forever in all directions. It was the sheltered heart of the Tauren people. And if Mulgor itself had a sheltered heart, it would be Red Cloud Mesa.
The plainstrider squawked and preened. Wynden pressed against a thin tree, thanking the Earthmother that they were such stupid beasts. No boar would fall for this. Wynden opened herself, reaching upward into the sky. It was a struggle not to laugh as electricity rippled through her, making her fur stand on end. It tickled, it burned, it was life, it was appetite, she was powerful, she was a conduit, she was a spear of light connecting the Earth and the Heavens, she- had spooked the strider with her glow. But lightning can strike over great distances, and the strider's loping run couldn't even hope to outdistance her. The lightning crackled as it exploded from her hands, a fierce bolt of white-blue in the darkness. The strider cried out as tumbled in an ungainly heap of limbs. Wynden hummed as she lashed it to the others and set her sights on the camp.