Nimbus prowls close to the ankles of his tauren, who sits near the fire at Desolation Hold.

"He must rest, that is all." The tauren unrolls an opened bag of mixed nuts. "He has many years, his mind and body weathered."

Nimbus stretches and curls against a nearby rock with a growl. The tauren stands abruptly at Nimbus, shaking his head with a grit on his jaw.

"I disagree. Our blessings -- be they mixed nuts or the light of Loa -- will be enough." The tauren pulls his Hearthstone from his shirt. "Come, this is no time for rest. Let us consult the wilds. I am sure that even if the Mok'gun can not find a remedy for the Warchief, we may still hold our hope. This is the son of Krom'gosh, and that is all that is important, Nimbus."

Nimbus wraps close to the foot of his tauren.

"It will turn out well. You know this." The Ghost Saber's tauren taps his Hearthstone and he and his companion inconspicuously fade.