It wasn’t long before my big mouth and my even bigger flame got me into trouble. The eyeless former Jin approached the tribal mother and I as we sat by the only cool patch of water in the entirety of Durotar. The heat must have been insidious that day. I don’t recall. No amount of water splashed upon my body, however, could have cooled my mind as I listened to that blind, cretinous fool insult my mate and love without provocation. When I challenged him on his right to make such bold statements, he insisted that I should take his comments with a ‘grain of salt’.

“Salt.” I replied, “Too much salt in the diet makes one fat. And lazy. And stupid. And….blind.”

And as the mirth in our respective taunts was quickly replaced with the promise of utter annihilation, I knew once more that I’d sealed my fate here. No matter the outcome, I’d commit a grievous trespass. Against myself, against this man, against Drek’tal, the tribe… But no other thought could enter my mind. Die, I thought. And so I stood up. I puffed up my chest and faced a man twice my size without fear and hesitation.

And when that same large man was spitting up his own blood in the dirt, with my staff poised below his chin, I realized my own hubris and the perils of a love so strong so as to dissuade me from acting reasonably.

That is not to say that I have always acted reasonably. Reason does not govern me. Emotional rule is the most satisfying monarch. I do not care to bring myself into line when I am acting purely out of self-interest. After all, what else is there besides myself?

There is Drek’tal, now. And when I looked this man in his sightless eyes, I realized that one day, Drek’tal would die. Perhaps before me. Perhaps by my own actions. So I spared this man his life, if only because I need fewer enemies in this world than I need avenged lovers. I need to keep Drek’tal from strife on my account. I need to act with his best interests in mind, and not merely my own.

But my intent constituted the offense. After I’d spared the man and allowed him to feed on my blood as a gesture of my good faith, I incurred an even more serious wrath: the wrath of the tribe. Expulsion seems likely, if not assured. Do we run now? Drek’tal is anxious. I have never seen him pace like this before.

Oh, Drek’tal. Are you more trouble than you’re worth? You could be.

But what’s a little more trouble in the life of Dzivah?