A smiling orc.

"Boo, why you up so early?" Bylin asked Butha, as she rolled to face her lover, watching him gaze onto Orgrimmar's morning bustle.

"Jus tinkin a lil." He responded to himself as much as her inquiry. He loved the mornings, especially in Orgrimmar. With the sun barely peaking over the city's walls, only the most ambitious were awake, or just going to bed, depending on their individual perspective. The shadowmaster appreciated such things.

"Thinking about what?" The orc queried.

"Tings...I dun noz. Life be sa good, since yooz comin back." Butha spoke softly, reflectively, sitting on his hunches, watching the city's other early risers. "fuckin, eatin, fuckin, sleepin an mo' fuckin, dat perty good, huh?" He turned his head and smiled at Bylin, seeking the obvious answer.

"Yeah, I suppose it's pretty good." She said, rolling her eyes and matching his wily smile.

Life was indeed good Butha thought to himself, as he returned to watching his city. He had everything he wanted. He had enough money saved to live the rest of his days comfortably. He had enough notoriety to walk amongst both citizens and soldiers with equal respect, and finally Bylin had come back. Long had he fought against his passion, and just when he had allowed himself to give in, she left. But now, she has returned and his life should be full.

"Buuuut...I sense it, hun. What's the but?" Bylin pried.

"I dun na...Hey lookies. Der Koriq down der on dat mota-tingie. I wonderin how he doin ta'day."

"Silly troll. Probably not different than yesterday, when you talked with him."

"HEY DER! YOOZ KAY'ZY GAY!" The troll shouted at his long-time friend, waving as he did so from his loft above central Orgrimmar.

Grinning at the sound of a familiar voice, Doctor Koriq looked up and waived back, shaking his head in amusement at the naked, yelling troll. "And, he thinks I'm crazy."

Turning around, Buthaleirus strolled the loft's short span to a worn-wooden foot locker. Deftly, he ran his hands over the smooth corners and across the length of the iron bands, which reinforced it. Feeling the familiar grain, he murmured, as if in passing thought. "He really shood be ridin dat tiga'. Et mo his..." Butha paused searching for the proper word.

"Style?" Bylin finished his thought, moving behind Butha massaging his shoulders and back. "His style. You know; like your style swingin' maces high and low."

"Meh." Butha responded, casually, as he turned to face Bylin. "I guessin sa'. Dat used ta be me ting. I used ta be perty good, yah?" He again smiled at Bylin, seeking the obvious answer.

"No, my Boo." She quipped, and in her best Butha impersonation continued. "Yooz aint used ta be anythin." *Now, flowing back and forth between dialects* "Originals can't be used ta bees. They just always ares." Buthaleirus smiled his big-toothy smile, as she continued. "If you want to go bashin, GO BASHIN! It's who you be. I'm sure Koriq would love to have you return."

"Yah?" Butha half answered and half-asked. "Den et be like ole' times. Yooz an me be beatin an killin tings!"

"You think they'd take me back too!?" Bylin excitedly asked. "I mean, we know they will take you back."

"Yooz da silly one now." Butha answered reassuringly. "Course dey take yooz bahck. Wez *points to her then himself* pahtnars."

"Kay. Even Doctor Kash? He seemed to yell a lot."

"Corse Kash will." Butha answered. "An dey call 'em Kuss now, since T-mon's still be mad at 'em."

"Why Kuss?"

"Yoo jokin' righ?" Butha's shocked expression, drew across his face. "Yoo reahlly dun noz how he got dat name?" Then, without a moments hesitation, the Shadowmaster, puffed out his chest, grabbed a nearby empty bottle, a wooden spoon and went into his best Kash-Kuss impersonation.

"Listen-up, yoo mutha-------!" Butha started, trying to really orcify his trollish-orc dialect. "Yoo ------ bettar get it righ't tis time, er Is gonna stomp anotha -----hole in yooz!" He continued, chewing a wooden spoon from one-side of his mouth to another, as a makeshift cigar. "Dat's righ't. Is said anotha, cuz yoos already a buncha -------!"

Bylin laughed heartily at the representation. "Oh yeah. How could I ever question that?"

Giggling at both himself and a flood of silent memories, Butha peered over his shoulder, and spied Backlash's Guild Master at the mailbox. "Mebbe, I goes ta speak wit K-mons now."

Bylin smiled. "Maybe, you should put pants on first."

"Mebbe, I shoodnt." Butha grinned.

Bylin smiled bigger.