Lang had to duck in order to clear the doorway into the mildly creepy-looking hut built into the hollowed-out dead tree, though he found that it was marginally more agreeable inside the hut than outside. The various masks on the walls were a bit off-putting, but a large pot of something delicious-smelling was simmering over a bed of hot coals that sent up tongues of flame to lick the soot-blackened underbelly of the cauldron. Various phials and herbs lined the walls, and the Monk even recognized a few of them by their shape or coloration. It was the house of an herbalist, and if the masks and his host's strange turns of phrase were anything to go by, it was the house of a shaman. "This is... cozy," Lang decided as he went over to study some of the plants, trying to discern which ones looked familiar to him and which ones were totally alien. "So, I take it that you live alone?" he asked his host, looking back at her as she began putting away the various herbs that were in her basket.

"Yes, you are right, I do live alone. It might seem a bit lonely, but it is my home," she said in rhyme--again--without looking away from what she was doing. "The soup that I made should be complete. Why don't you get some, then have a seat?" she asked, waving to a table that had two bowls on it. "I was already expecting company, but now I will simply have to set a place for three."

The Pandaren looked and, sure enough, there were already two rather large earthenware bowls sitting on the small shelf that she had motioned to. He hummed, wondering if the company would be another striped mini-horse, before he grabbed a bowl and filled it up with what seemed to be a very well-seasoned vegetable soup. He reached into his pouch, which was attached to his belt right next to a gourd marked with the seal of the Huojin brewery on Shin-zin Su, and procured a pair of chopsticks before he brought the bowl up to his lips and began chowing down. He was starved from the battle that he had been taking place in, and he felt like he could eat his body weight in the delicious soup. The monk tilted the bowl up as he ate, making sure to get every last drop of broth and every scrap of vegetable that he could out of the bowl, before he finally lowered and let out a content sigh after only a few seconds. The Zebra was looking at him with shock in her eyes, as if in disbelief at the sight of someone consuming that much soup in such a short amount of time. Lang smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head with one gloved hand as he said, "Apologies, but it was so good that before I knew it, it was all gone."

The Zebra's shocked countenance transformed into a smile as she chuckled and shook her head, dismissing the notion that there was anything to be sorry about. "You must be hungry to eat so much. So tell me, what were you doing before all this fuss?" she asked as she went to make herself a bowl, spooning out the soup into the bowl with a long wooden spoon that she held in her mouth.

Lang filled his bowl again by dipping it into the soup before contemplating the answer to the Zebra's question, trying to figure out how to say it in a way that wouldn't sound ridiculous. "Well, I was in a battle. I was fighting a Mage, and I think I was winning, but..." he trailed off as his memories grew fuzzy and he furrowed his brow, angry that his own mind was fighting against him in a way that he could not fight back. "It is unclear. The next thing I remember is waking up in this forest with my head throbbing as if an angry Hozen had used it as target practice for its fireworks," he explained before he went back to eating the soup, prompting silence as the Zebra stirred her own broth with a small wooden spoon. He was finished with his second bowl within moments, but set it to the side rather than get another helping. Though he could definitely use it, his current predicament occupied his mind so much that even his appetite was subdued, if only a little.

The Zebra... Zecora, that was her name. Zecora looked up at Lang and studied him closely, particularly the armor and weapons that he had holstered on his back on the way to the hut. "You are a warrior, but not a savage. Perhaps it is not right to assume you will ravage," she muttered quietly, though just loud enough that Lang could hear her. The monk said nothing, though he realized then that the reason she had taken him back to her house was to keep an eye on him, to make sure that he wasn't going to find the nearest living thing and start beating it to death. She was familiar with violence, though she avoided it when possible and tried to actively prevent it where he was concerned. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips before he reached down and unhitched the gourd hanging from his belt before he uncorked the stopper and took a swig, relishing the sweet taste of home that the brew offered.

He took a satisfying gulp before he was pegged with another question from his new dichromatic friend, asking, "You say you were in a battle? Was it a war?" The Pandaren nearly choked on his drink before looking to the unassuming, unthreatening little horse once more, who's face was a perfect picture of innocence.

"Yes... A bad one. I was fighting for my home, to protect those close to me. And right now, seeing as how I am possibly hundreds of thousands of miles away from that battle, I would prefer not to think about my comrades dying," he said slowly, a dangerous glint beginning to form in his eyes as he carefully corked his gourd and moved to replace it on his belt. Zecora looked unfazed by his dangerous gaze and simply locked eyes with him, her large blue orbs seeming to examine every inch of his soul as if she were attempting to find out who he really was, in his heart of hearts. They held this position for a while, neither backing down an inch, before the mini-horse let out a huff of air and began to chuckle in a way that made Lang's skin crawl. She simply turned away after that, leaving the Pandaren to eat and drink in peace while she contemplated several things.

"They have noticed by now, I am quite sure. What happens from here on in is on this one's fur," she muttered to herself as she looked to her fire, not quite loud enough for Lang to hear her. Which was just as well, for he wouldn't have understood what she meant even if he had. While he replenished himself at Zecora's hut, larger forces were already hard-at-work attempting to shape the destiny of the new arrival to Terra.

"Zecora~! I'm ready ta do mah train... in'..." a young, heavily accented voice called out before it trailed off, prompting Lang to turn around and look at the source, which was currently standing in the entryway of the hut. A tiny, yellow horse, so small that it could easily be mistaken for some kind of toy, with a big red bow in its red mane, stood stock-still while it stared at the Pandaren's ponderous bulk. The monk's jaw dropped as he took in just how heart-stoppingly adorable this little thing was, and he did the one thing that every sentient being with any kind of soul would do when confronted with such unrivaled, concentrated amounts of cute. He smiled, unfortunately displaying the long, sharp canines and incisors he had in the front of his mouth. That, of course, got the reaction that any sentient herbivore child would give when confronted with a 630-pound apparent predator.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH~! THA MONSTER'S GONNA EAT MEEEEEE~!" she screamed as she bolted away from the hut with more speed than he had seen in many racehorses. Before he could even yell out, "Wait," the filly was so far gone that he would need his Lion Turtle to even hope to catch up. He was left with one hand extended and a word dying on his lips as he watched her tear away into the forest, disappearing within a matter of seconds. It was quiet for just a few moments before Zecora let a giggle slip, and then a full-out series of deep guffaws followed as Lang's cheeks burned in embarassment and he got another bowl of brew, doing his best to ignore the almost obnoxious laughter of his host.

______________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~________________

In a higher plane of existence, seven Ethereal forms sat in a circle that had one glaringly obvious gap in it. Well, the real description of what was happening is too much for mortal brains to comprehend, so for now we will say that was how they were arranged. One of the Ethereal forms, an Alicorn shape bursting with the unrestrained light of Sol, spoke first. "We all know why this council has been called to order. Something... we are still unsure what... has caused a disruption in the balance." she said, and the rest of the forms gave an approximation of a grim nod--as close as one could get when projecting one's true form onto the astral plane.

"It landed in one of my last sanctuaries, the Everfree, and disrupted the natural flow of energy severely," a pure black entity said in a growl that reverberated in the astral plane. "Calm, my brother. If the being's state of unconsciousness was anything to go by, it was not a purposeful disruption," an identical being of pure white said as she placed a hoof on her brother's rage-filled soul.

"Thou knewest where this being made its entrance into this world, then? And it si only now thou decided to inform the rest of this council, well after the gathering hath started," a midnight blue being said from beside the glowing golden one, raising a hoof and pointing it at the two spirits. "If thou keepest information from this council, it helps no one,"

The black and white beings were about to respond in unison when the largest and most shining of the ethereal forms, a being of purest alabaster with wisps of fiery red roaring through her soul at random intervals, slammed down her proverbial hoof and silenced the group before they could start arguing. Both of the parties bowed their heads respectfully and settled back into their positions, giving eachother sideways glares. "No matter what the circumstances were, we face an undeniable truth: Something has slipped into our world unbidden, or been cast here by forces beyond his control. The first is terrifying, the second... is full of the possibility to be anything," she said as she looked back and forth betwixt the two parties before she looked up to the ever-silent watchers, who took the forms of dragons. They simply nodded in assent to her assessment, prompting the Alicorn to settle back and look over to her two daughters. "This Everfree Forest is the sprawling wild place that grew out of your battle with Discord. As such, it is your duty to seek this being out and determine what, if any, motives he has. Good luck, my daughters," she said with tenderness, causing both of them to nod before disappearing from the council plane to do their mother's wishes in the mortal realm.

Faustia the Namegiver looked out over the astral plane where she ruled, the afterlife of all beings who lived good and harmonious lives, and worried. This new arrival could be the salvation of their world... or its ruination.

Author's Note

Gah, I know it sucks, but I'm building up steam here. It will get better, I promise! Put away the torches and pitchforks.