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Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
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Having escaped the iron fist her father had on her years prior the worgen infection, Noella had left both city and family behind harbouring a deep-seated disdain for the whole Gilnean nation and its people.
Why did she have such a bad view about them? Between regular beatings she took and protecting her sister from the harsh treatment of their father with the very limited interaction she had with individuals outside the family who didn’t do anything to help out, Noella had quickly grown to hate Gileans and its citizens as a whole, placing them all in the same boat. They could all rot if she cared.
With nothing to her name and wandering the forests of Silverpine, she had struggled to survive on her own while avoiding camps and the horde due to the stories she had heard prior.
Eventually she was picked up by a group of mercenary with an old orc as their leader during her time of need. When probed for her name, she didn’t want to be affiliated with any of “her” people, and thus, she would simply answer and take the mantle of, "Carole"
The Orc knew how to speak common, and so he fed her, took care of her and welcomed her under his wing. Over the years and with training in the ways of the warrior complemented with survival skills, her views of him and the group had turned as one of family...
One faithful day, or just by pure coincidence, no one knew at that point, during one of the jobs, a beast had wounded her which, later on, was found harbouring the worgen curse. Overtime Carole had started seeing it as a blessing as it left the remnants of her human form... the last vestige of visible Gilnean left.
With years she had made a name to herself with the band of mercenaries and was one of the very few non-horde members to be having limited access to horde camps, in big part due to her neutrality.
Despite all of this, Carole had never forgotten about her sister Naomi and kept wondering why the decision to leave her behind haunted her. After the breach of Gilneas and the subsequent outbreak, she had used some connections to figure out if her sister had survived or not. Surprisingly, it wasn’t difficult after a few months since her sister never changed her name and the trail of carnage she behind as a soldier in the name of the Alliance.
She kept tabs on her whereabouts during the two following years.
One day, while the band of mercenaries was taking refuge in their camp outside a human village for the night, Carole had used the opportunity to go to the local inn to enjoy a drink and see what was up. To her disbelief upon entering the establishment, on the other side of the main room, stood her sister Naomi. After all these years, she knew she wouldn’t recognize her so she took opportunity to walk straight to a table against the wall where she could observe in peace. During the evening, she couldn’t help but stare at the other worgen across the room from time to time until they had noticed and locked gaze between eachother. Carole just couldn’t help but scratch her nose in a very particular way every time it happened. Eventually, the sister had left the premises and our warrior did the same, going back for the night to her band. Early on the next day, before daylight had risen beyond the horizon, Carole had taken the opportunity for a quick breakfast at the inn, however, before service could arrive, the other worgen came storming in through the door dashing straight towards her table with a terrible rage and determination in her gaze. The only thing Carole had in mind at that moment was:
"Shit..."
This has been commissioned a while back and I was WAY to lazy to even post anything.
Today this changed. Here's the pic and the related story behind it. xD
If you want to see Naomi's point of view. Vertigo will upload his part when he has the time and I will update with a link below.
Naomi on the left 
Vertigo121
Carole on the right 
Nahysuh
Art done by 
Peperomira
Vertigo121
Nahysuh
PeperomiraCategory Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Werewolf / Lycanthrope
Size 2151 x 1713px
File Size 748.1 kB
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