"Swieekk" the tiny creation shrieked as it came to a life of it's own. Carefully, Grim closed the machinery flap and locked it into place.
|A fine creation and new gift.|
"There now", he grinned. "Looks like you'll make a fine little pet fer that sweet lass I been chasin'." The metallic squirrel chirped with delight and danced about. Grim thought of Mckaylee, the sweet dark haired scout he had been chasing. She had a winning smile and quick wit. Indeed her keen mind would enjoy this little gift. With the finishing touches, he packed the little squirrel away into a box along with written instructions and readied it for shipment.
Taking the box with him, he found a courier outside Thelsamaar and paid a few silver for careful shipment. It wasn't but a small gift, but as often as he had to march to the beat of Arathi war drums, he tried to be thoughtful when he took leave. With that done, he grabbed a pint of lager and pulled out the parchment that gave his latest return orders. The Arathi Basin had seen a lot of action of late and Ironforge had committed what troops they could. Being the fine marksman that he was, The High Command ordered him out again. With a sigh, he picked up his pack and rifle and headed out once again.
|High Above the Basin, Grim over watches and defends the Lumber mill|