Staring at the barely-furnished, roofed terrace, Alec frowned. This was not a room.

It was a space, definitely, maybe even one he could live in, but he was promised a room. That was the condition for pretending he knew what the elves in the feathers were talking about - for pretending that he knew what a druid was, and that he had intentions of becoming one.

For the record, he all thought they were just secret witches.

But what mattered is they had reneged on the deal. Rooms have four walls and a door. This had three walls, and a big… open side.

At least he wasn’t living in a tree anymore.

Slumping sideways, letting his raggedly-strapped suitcase slide off his shoulder, he hazily noticed the few things his new quarters did come with: a bed, a dresser, one of those folding things you changed behind (which definitely did NOT make up for the absence of an entire wall), and… a mirror.

Alec inhaled sharply; there were no mirrors in Tal’doren - the elves insisted it was because their expedition could only bring bare essentials, but he figured preventing dozens of hysterical wolf-people from seeing themselves might’ve also been a priority.

Speaking as a hysterical wolf-person, he knew vaguely what he looked like - he’d seen others, obviously, along with the occasional glimpse of his reflection in a murky puddle. That was in Gilneas, though, where he couldn’t afford to panic about his appearance; there were more important things to be panicking about.

Steeling himself, he approached the mirror from the side, as if he were sneaking up on some unpredictable animal. Hesitating momentarily before clenching his fists and throwing himself in front of the thing, he figured it couldn’t be that bad if he got it over with.

He was wrong.

He looked like someone had crammed a monster inside human clothes, badly. His hands ended in long, mud-caked claws. Two sets of curved, bestial fangs stuck out of his muzzle - he had a muzzle - complimenting the rest of his razor-sharp teeth. Only when they flattened with worry did he realize the two fur-covered tufts sticking out of his mane were, in fact, his ears.

Panic time.

professorhalfwitts:

rrkrrjrjrkrjrr

so i really didn’t see ratatouille until after coming up with alec

honest

lilio24:

Fish and Chips, Camden Town, London

fuckitandmovetobritain:

Chilham, Kent, UK

[source]

[source]

macbutt:

I accidentally a Holmewood who belongs to drunklibrarian

i went by his wraorg profile idek how up to date that is

la la la hope he sees this

AAAAAAAAAAAA ARTS

Alec’s Druid Forms

—-

Resting on Alec’s dresser in the Nighthaven dormitories are a few scraps of parchment paper, labeled as Quotations and Excerpts from the lectures of Taahe Amberstride, Shu’halo archdruid in quick, scribbled print.

“Many students whom I have taken on in study assume wrongfully that those forms taken (and those Ancients revered) by the Cenarion Circle are the only ones available to us as druids.

They could not be more wrong; the Ancients are as numerous as the beasts of our world, and only our belief is required to assume their form and embody their traits. Though it remains common - and, I will agree, of benefit - for druids to adopt a favored form for various purposes, by no means must this choice of shape reflect those of the more… orthodox night elves.

Take, for example, the form of a bear. Often, in battle, a druid skilled in shapeshifting must assume the body of a beast suited to receiving blows, in order to protect his or her more vulnerable colleagues - or civilians, as the case may be. The kaldorei sect of the Claw would have you believe only an ursine transformation is acceptable for such a scenario. While a bear’s shape is indeed useful in that case - and for this reason it remains popular - a druid may well draw upon any thick-hided, resilient animal to protect their allies.

So it is for any form of utility: when navigating an aquatic environment, it is accepted that the form of the seal (a species once common to Darnassian coastlines, I might add) is most prudent. A mammalian form, however, is large and must resurface occasionally for air: a druid braving the depths of Vashj’ir, for example (as many brave Cenarion agents did during the time that region was exposed to the energies of the Abyssal Maw) might choose, perhaps, the shape of an octopus, a form more suited to the chaotic geometry and crushing pressure of the deep ocean.”