“Get your shit, and your bear. We are leaving.”

I didn’t protest, as much as I despise him ordering me around. This is my fault. Drek’tal is acting in my best interest, even if he is taking the opportunity to make me feel like dirt for my transgressions.

So we rode out of Durotar, under the auspices of a contract. I know that there is an actual contract, but considering that he has historically been reluctant to include me in his work, the real reasoning has become all too clear: Dzivah is trouble, Dzivah needs to be removed. Hide her away. She’s an embarrassment and a liability.

I don’t have the gumption or the emotional wherewithal to challenge him on this point. So with my wounded pride I follow him back to Stranglethorn. From there, I shall make my voice loud and clear: He shall either learn to live with me, or die turning me away.

I will kill him myself.

Love is not enough, Primal.