We were a small family, making a living on the edge of the Ashenvale forest that bordered the Felwood. My father, Lorathin, was a disciple of Cenarius, the patron god of the Druids. His life's work involved seeking the healing of the Felwood, which had been destroyed thousands of years ago by the Burning Legion, a host of demons from beyond this world. The land had been scarred horribly; a jagged wasteland that once was a forest of immense beauty. My father believed it could be returned to its once beautiful state, and so he and the Cenarion Circle worked endlessly to see that dream come true.
Wethruien, my mother, was a healer, though she kept mostly to our home taking care of me, her only daughter. On occasion she would accompany my father to the camps in and around the Felwood to tend to injured travelers or members of the Circle who had had run-ins with the now feral Furbolg tribes. I grew up knowing love and finding my place at peace with the forests and animals around me.
When I was nearly 300, I declared my desire to be a huntress to my parents. Though they did not say it, I could tell they were taken aback. They had originally hoped I would follow my mother in service to Elune, and perhaps even train under Tyrande Whisperwind, but I was a free spirit, and could not see myself tied to a temple. The forest was my home, but it would soon be threatened by many factions.
They came uninvited and began to chop down the trees of the Ashenvale. Green, lumbering, oafs, mindlessly hacking away at growth that was as old and ancient as the Night Elves. It turned my stomach to see them invading our land, and solidified my desire to learn the art of the hunt. I was still young and head strong. My parents, in their wisdom, moved us west to avoid the skirmishes with the Orcs and our people, but soon it would not matter, for the Legion had returned.
The war to follow is well known and I will not put it down here, but what should be known is that my father, in service to Cenarius and our people, died at Mount Hyjal along with countless humans, orcs, trolls, and dwarves who all fought together against Archimonde and his demons. Though he was defeated, all Night Elves remember the day we became mortal, and mourn for those we lost. Grieving, my mother and I followed Archdruid Fangral Staghelm to Darkshore, where we were among the first Night Elves to move to the new World Tree, Teldrassil. My mother went to worship in the Temple of Elune, and that is where she spends most of her time to this day, praying for the ongoing battles of our people. I went to the nearby village of Shadowglen to begin my training as a huntress. There are many like me, seeking to learn the arts of battle to avenge those that we lost in the war.
Soon after I began my training, I went hunting in the Oracle Glade. While stopping for a drink, a screech owl swooped down and landed on my pack, which was lying on the ground next to me. I tried to shoo him away, but he insisted on pecking at one of the side pockets. I immediately became agitated as the bag had once belonged to my father and I did not want this silly owl to ruin it. After finally managing to get the mottled gray bird off the bag, I pulled open the pocket to see what he was so intent on. Inside was some boar meat, wrapped and packaged for dinner later that evening. I had more than enough, so I tore off a piece and threw it to the bird. He gobbled it quickly and then gazed at me with his large yellow eyes. Cocking his head slightly, he hooted at me, as if to ask if that was it. As I put the meat back in the pack, I felt something hard in the bottom of the pocket. I pulled out small metal token with the name "Lethan" imprinted on it.
Lethan was a nickname for Lorathin, my father. I had never really heard him called that except by a few of his friends from the Cenarion Circle, but he must have been called that growing up for it to be in his pack. The owl hooted once and then gave a short screech as he dove at the pack again. When I tried to shoo him once more, he snatched the nametag from my hand, but upon tasting the tarnished metal, he dropped it immediately. Exasperated, I gave him some more meat, and this time he looked a tad more content, but he did not leave. Sighing yet again, I stared at the owl. He was quick and observant, and his talons were sharp. The next stage of my training involved beast training. Most hunters had animal companions that assisted them in hunting, so maybe this owl could help me.
"Owl," I said firmly, "how would you like to become my hunting partner?" He stared at me unblinkingly, his head cocked to the side, which makes sense because he probably couldn't understand me. So I did something he would understand, I fed him the rest of the boar meat. I was pleasantly surprised when he did not leave after the meat had been finished. For a short while, we sat there in the forest, and when I rose to head back to the village, he came with me.
As we made our way back, I spoke to him again, something I would find myself doing often in the future, whether I thought he could understand me or not.
"If we're going to be friends, I will have to name you. Owl just doesn't have good ring to it. Do you have a preference?" The owl swooped down beside me and grasped the side of my pack much like he had done when I first met him. I gave him a quizzical look and reached into the pocket to find the name tag again. "Lethan, is it? Well, if you're going to be Lethan, then you have a lot to live up to my friend." Screeching loudly, he flew on ahead, apparently pleased with his new name.
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