A hilltop retreat bordering Mulgore and Ferelas has a small campfire beginning, and a tied kayak, bobbing at the lakeshore.

“Thank you all for coming tonight, I will not keep you long. I am sorry that I could not make it to the hold. ” Nimbus’ tauren sighs deep, popping open a fresh bag of mixed nuts. “I grow older, my senses distracted. I am no longer aware alone of what this ravenous clan’s nourishment requires, nor can my back alone carry the slain talbuk to the hold.”

The tauren munches from his bag of mixed nuts, motioning beyond the campfire.

“This is Pansu, who wishes to help prepare your food. Grin, I do not like sweets. But I also do not enjoy an empty kitchen.” The tauren munches. “Pansu has long since attained the rank of Grunt, and has … satiated… the appetites of the Orgrimmar Sanitation Commission. I do not wish them to ever visit my kitchen again. They are like the bear in spring. They consume without regard, then retreat to hibernation.” The tauren grins wide.

Pansu stands at attention with a bag of cupcakes in hand.

“I submit that this Grunt be allowed into the kitchens, to aid in the work to be done there.” Nimbus’ tauren folds his bag of mixed nuts and pockets it. “You’ve tested Pansu’s prowess with a grill and the blade, but I understand that the Grunt’s cupcakes are the trophy, here. Please. Enjoy.”

Nimbus is beckoned by the tauren. Snapping to its side, the Ghost Saber avoids the scent of Pansu’s preparations. He joins his tauren, in a hut behind the fire.

Pikki, standing off to the side, moves a bit to allow the old Tauren to pass. She looks Pansu over carefully, waiting for any sign of nervousness, or lack of confidence. She detects neither. "Well, den. Let's see wha yer got..." She moves around the fire and makes herself comfortable on a large log. As Pansu approaches,she sees the young goblin pulling something from her bag. There is no hesitation before a delicious looking feast appears before her. She looks over at the others and grins widely in appreciation before sampling and then devouring a large portion of the meat. "This es excellent, Pansu!" She licks her fingers thoroughly and leans back against the log, rubbing her stomach contentedly.

As Rode leans on the tree trunk, waiting patiently for his turn to eat, Babe, Nakin tied at his neck, Drools intensively beside the campefire. But before the slobbering mastiff could have his chance to enjoy his prepared meal, he had to endure Pikki who used him as comfort while she was ingesting her dish with degustation approval. Only after the goblin officer finished wiping her mouth was Babe finally offered his supper: a magnificent steak fit for a king. ...It was quickly replaced wit ha puddle of dog drool under a very content dog.

Babe didn't even give a second thought and gave a five bark of approval out of four and 15 tail wags out of 10 to show his satisfaction and his personal recommendation of Pansu's cooking. The mastiff then let everyone know that the tauren has found a worthy disciple by panting loudly.