(2025-06-10) Baby Bear Learns to Fork

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Author:	inkie
Summary:	As part of the campaign to make a lady out of Ozzy, Miss Gravehowl presents herself at Fallon House for a lesson on table etiquette with former First Footman Mr. Shine. Ozzy learns what Lena already knows: If you want to get Shine to talk, ask him to teach you something. Certain decided views of rich people are expressed.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: My Fair Ozzy

The note Ozzy had received inviting her to Fallon House for table lessons with Shine had been casual. Fallon House itself proves decidedly not casual: a sprawling estate, the stony clifftop manor framed against the western sea and sky. Snowy viburnum and vivid yarrow and heliotrope fill flowerbeds to either side of the broad stone steps.

At the top of those steps, a terrifying personage has emerged at Ozzy's arrival. If one has encountered vrykul, one might reasonably assume this shave-headed giant is at least half vrykul. Or maybe like a smallish actual vrykul. He is dressed in butler's livery, white-gloved, and his expression is unsmiling but politely so; he does not glower.

As if aware that Vane is potentially terrifying, however, a much smaller, slighter figure emerges to join him on the steps: a sleekly dark-haired woman in a modest tweed suit and button boots. Annai smiles a welcome.

Ozzy is wearing a dress that is… clean, and … shoes that are… on, and matched to each other. Her tawny-blonde hair has been washed and brushed and gathered loosely at the nape of her neck with an unevenly tied ribbon, but it has the look of hair that dried around certain tangles and is still kinked where they used to be. Her face has no dirt on it.

She has really gone out of her way to be fancy, in other words.

Her eyes are like gray-green saucers at the sight of Vane, but she manages a tentative smile at Annai, who is at least a different and more familiar type of scary.

"Ello," she says. "Mr. Shine said I could come?" She holds up the letter as though it is a ticket to an Event.

Vane bows his head courteously. "Miss Gravehowl. Mr. Shine is in the dining room." He steps aside to open the front door for her.

Annai says kindly, "I'll show you where. It's not hard to find but the first time you step into it you just expect the place to be a bloody maze."

Ozzy nods wordlessly, eyes still huge, and follows the creepy vine-vulture lady. Once she and Annai are out of earshot of the possibly-vrykul, she whispers, "Cor… wot they need oll this for anyway?"

Annai laughs softly. "Because they're wealthy? I have no idea. Admiral Fallon didn't build it, although he has renovated a great deal of it. There are also a great many people who live here, though. Including Mr. Shine and Miss Coit, and the Fallons' wards, and occasionally myself."

She is leading Ozzy down the corridor to the right. A smaller corridor intersects it from the left, and from down this corridor approaches an ominous clacking noise. CLACKCLACKCLACK.

A moment later, a blonde toddler who appears to style her wild curls remarkably like Ozzy usually does, pauses to glare up at the two women suspiciously with a near-black gaze. She is towing a wooden sailboat by a string. "Ah, nope," she says, or something that sounds very like it.

"Lady Ery," says Miss Curran politely, bowing her head to the toddler. She does not slow or stop.

The toddler stands in the hall staring after them for a few moments, and then goes clacking away toward the foyer.

"You even gotta grovel to a baby noble?" Ozzy says in dismay. "That's just plain stchewwwpid. Oi'm more of a lady than 'at fing even as oi am. It ain't even talk proper," she says, extremely properly.

Annai laughs. "That wasn't groveling, it was greeting. And to be honest it's quite funny. You should hear the Admiral address her. He thinks it's hilarious." She casts a smile at Ozzy. "Nobles have all kinds of peculiar manners, and some take them quite seriously. Admiral Fallon is more naval than noble, and finds most of it a sort of silly game. That's why Fallon House is a good place for you to learn whatever you might like, as far as these things go; no one here will turn up his nose, including the lord of the household."

She pauses in front of a tall wooden double door and opens it to usher Ozzy through.

The dining room is a huge open space of dark wood paneling and tall casement windows draped in heavy blue velvet. The long wall opposite the windows is hung with a collage of pennants and banners rather than artworks.

Down the center of the room runs a long table, and there is Shine in his shirtsleeves, arranging a place setting. He glances up as the two women come in, and smiles faintly. "Ozzy. How are ye?"

"Wobbly as fuck," Ozzy answers. "This place is too big and too clean an' oi'm afraid to touch anyfing, an' Miz Curran just bowed 'er 'ead to a baby an' called 'er a laydy. But she says oi won't get in trouble if I don't," she babbles on nervously, "which better be true, because I ain't callin' no baby a lady. They can kick me out of the ball first. Oi'm gonna go to that ball, though, I got an invitation, so they can't say I can't go. The baby ain't goin' is it? Babies are loud and they smell. Oi'm loud too oi guess, but oi don't smell, I washed before oi came, oi did."

Ozzy, you're supposed to say Fine, thank you, and you?

Shine's smile widens warmly and he nods to her. Miss Curran laughs — not unkindly — and pats Ozzy's arm.

"Obviously ye must come to the ball," Shine tells Ozzy. "And ye won't have a bit of trouble if ye don't call the baby 'Lady.' Most of us call the baby 'Lady' because she's that full up on herself, ye never met a child that age and so sure she was the sun. But her name's Ery and ye can just call her Ery, or 'the baby' — although there's two other babies — or ye can call her nothing at all and just shoo her along. D'ye want some coffee or something to eat before we start on all this business? Something to eat properly, I mean, before ye have to think about forks."

"Oi don't fink I could eat anyfing wifout sicking it up," Ozzy says politely. "Cor, even Merry's 'ouse wozn't this grand. Oi'm sweatin' oi am. Keep expectin' someone to show up any minute an' chase me out wif a poker." She hugs herself and looks at the table. "Maybe lookin at forks an' spoons an' fings will bring back me appetoite."

Annai pats Ozzy's arm again, this time with a brisk, schoolmarmish reassurance. "I'll get back to work, then. Lovely to see you, Ozzy, and very glad you'll come to the ball."

"No one's going to chase ye out, with a poker or otherwise," Shine says when Annai's gone. "For one thing, you're a guest. For another, you're Cobalt Company, and the Admiral has the highest regard for our lot. And for a third, ye were just part of the force up in Northrend that held the dragons' temple and defeated Deathwing. You're more likely to get a medal than a poker here. And we — including you, very much — are who the ball is for."

He draws out the chair at the place setting he's arranged. "I know it's nervy, I can tell ye how sick I was the whole first term I was at school with a lot of rich lads suddenly. But I promise ye this household isn't that sort of rich. That's how Fallon and I became friends, in fact."

Ozzy's face flames red at the praise, but she seems a little less shaky as she carefully sits in the chair as though it's likely to shatter under her weight.

"Lucky I know you lot then," she says. "I dunno whevver it's the Loight or Woild Gods or wot lookin' out for me, but I sure 'ave made some narrow escapes an' met some real noice people. Wot woz it loike in school? I never been. Specially not wif rich folk."

Shine slides her chair in closer, gently. "Was shite, to be honest, till Fallon came along. Not the studying. I liked the studying, s'why I was there. It was… ah, this was back in Kul Tiras, and it was a boarding school for lads to train as marine officers. I knew I wanted to be a marine since I was a kid, worked my arse off to get in and get a scholarship, passed the entry exam with top marks, and then figured out late that I'd be living and training with a whole pack of little lords who weren't keen to have a ferryman's son with a scholarship getting top marks."

He pauses and then adds almost apologetically, "I like maths. There's a lot of maths in sailing. I liked the lectures and the learning. I didn't like having my arse kicked on the regular, or sitting alone most of the time otherwise while other lads made jokes. Then Fallon came along."

Ozzy's eyes are huge as she listens. "Cor, I didn't know you was a genius too," she says. "So I guess because Fallon was noice to you, you figure you pay it forward loike. Yeah?"

Shine smiles faintly. "Something like, maybe. They didn't like him either, thought he was up himself — which was rich from the pack of them — because he'd got put forward a couple've years and comes from high family. But Fallon had the swagger not to take shit and the fists to back it up." He pauses. "I was — am — better with my fists," he says modestly, "but a lad like me hits a rich man's son, I get expelled from school. Lad like Fallon hits a rich man's son, school agrees he probably had it coming."

Shine shrugs. "It's not fair, but not much is, and finding a good friend in it all is a piece of bloody luck. Twenty years I've known the man. He backed me up, I backed him up, we back each other up."

"Yeah, sometimes it goes loike 'at," Ozzy agrees, her expression softening. "Sometoimes someone who oughtn't look twoice at you uvver than to kick you out of 'is way, instead 'e decides to be noice to ya. No rhoime or reason to it, but you just fank your stars or gods or wotever you got, an' you make sure you don't ever let 'em down, roight?" Her eyes are suspiciously misty. Must be dusty in here.

Shine smiles gently down at her. "Aye," he says. "No rhyme or reason. S' all right to let a person down now or then, though. We're all just people, and they fuck up as well, and the best of 'em know that. You're a good lass, Oslynn. I know Lady Merelda would fight bears for ye."

He pauses and tilts his head thoughtfully. "… though with the worgen business, that might be unfair to the bears. Something equivalent, then. Ye know what I mean."

Ozzy giggles. "Oi'm a bear sometimes," she points out, "but Merry wouldn't foight me, I bet you. Even in worgen form."

She turns her attention to the table, then. Her smile fades as she attempts to adopt a Serious Learning Expression. She ends up looking more like like she's enduring a sudden cramp.

"Awroight," she says. "Spoons. Forks. Manners. Oi'm at a fauncy dinner. Tell me 'ow not to cock it up."

"So." Shine steps to her left shoulder. "You're at a fancy dinner. Ye've just been seated. Napkin goes in your lap, is the first thing. That sort of indicates you're settled in now." He indicates the folded linen napkin arranged artfully on her plate.

Ozzy stares at the napkin. "But it's all pretty. It's okay to just… mess it up?"

"Aye." Shine smiles wryly at her. "Part of being rich, that is. Ye can just mess shite up. Someone'll fold ye another for next time."

"Noice," she says, and grabs the napkin, unfolding it and laying it over her lap. "Okay, all settled in. An' me 'ands are so clean, the napkin looks loike oi ain't even touched it," she says proudly. What a lady!

"Good," Shine approves. Positive reinforcement. "Now — I said the napkin signals that you're settled. Who you're signaling is the servants, aye? A lot of what ye'll want to know is not just what fork to use but how to let the servants know whether you're done eating or ready for a next course or whatever by signaling silently."

She nods. "Noice. Because you don't wanna be yellin' for it, roight? There's probably people talking about politics an' the weavver an' stuff a' the table."

"Exactly," Shine says. "In most rich houses you'll go to, the servants are meant to be… sort of invisible. Ye don't talk to them, they don't talk to you, they just do the things ye want them to do because ye signal it or it's the right time of day for it or whatever. It sounds shite, but you'll find there are plenty of servants who take it as a point of pride, how discreet they can be. It's good servanting." He knows that's not a word. It's a word for Ozzy's benefit. "There are also less formal households where it's all right to talk wi'the servants and no one minds it, but because ye won't always know if you're in that sort of household, ye can't go wrong with ignoring 'em. It's acceptable manners anyplace."

"Weird," Ozzy says with a lopsided grin. "But I bet you loiked bein' ignored, yeah?" She giggles.

"I was bloody good at it, is what," says Shine, and grins back at her. "Most professional ye ever met. Invisible as hell. Got a lot of good gossip that way.

"That's another thing about servants — while you're ignoring 'em, their whole job is to pay attention to you, so ye'd best believe they know all of everyone's business and the best gossip in any household is belowstairs." He waggles his eyebrow at her.

Ozzy grins. "Almost sounds like a fun job," she says, 'If you're in a noice 'ouse'old anyway. But I'd be pants at it, since oi can't seem to go nowhere wifout knockin' into fings or bein' too loud. But yeah, that's what oi'd do if oi was a servant. Just try an' listen to everyfing everyone says an' get all the good dirt. Oi won't arsk wot Fallon's dirt is though, because e's been good to me."

Shine laughs softly. "Ah, and no one here would tell ye Fallon's dirt, I'm afraid. Because he's been good to us.

"The main of a servant's job is to do things for rich folk that normal people just do for themselves. It's like… ye must imagine that a great many rich folk are like babies. They're sort of helpless, sort of stupid, sort of fragile, and they can't use words, so they need constant minding. If ye need to blend among a lot of rich people, ye act like you're too dainty to live and you'll fit in all right."

"Too dainty to live," Ozzy giggles. "Oi don't fink anyone would ever believe that of me, but it'll be fun to try an' fool 'em. Wish me bones weren't so big though. Proper ladies is all dainty an' small, an' there's nuffing I can do about me bones. Other'n turn 'em into other even bigger koinds o' bones. But oi can still pretend to be 'elpless I suppose. Oi done tha' a toime or two when it seemed loike the best way to get fed. Beat catchin' rats for sure."

"I expect so," Shine says dryly. He steps back from her chair.

A moment later, he reappears, this time on her right side, with a bottle of wine. "So: You've sat, and you've laid your napkin to let the servants know you're settled in. They're going to bring ye drink. They're always going to come to the right side of your chair to pour your drink, and that's because the glasses to the right of your plate are yours.

"At a crowded dinner when there are settings pressed all against each other around the table, ye might forget, or it might look like ye have the glasses to your left. How d'you remember? 'Well obviously, Shine,' ye say, 'it's the glasses the footman pours for me.' But at a crowded dinner like that, ye may have a number of footmen all pouring at once, and what if you and the person next to ye both get your glasses filled?" As he speaks, he pours some red wine into Ozzy's glass. It is a baby serving of wine.

"I just gotta remember it's on me roight," she says. "Roight? So, me bad 'and. Oi'm left-'anded, see." Oh dear, now there's going to have to be talk about potentially banging elbows with the right-handed person on her left, as if this weren't challenging enough.

"Ah," says Shine. "Well, we may have an elbows situation to address, in that case. But we'll sort it. But meanwhile, if ye get flustered, ye can always do this." He sets the wine bottle on the table and makes rings of his index finger and thumb on both hands, his other fingers upright. "Hand on the left looks like a little b. Hand on the right looks like a little d. D's for drink."

He picks up the wine bottle and steps back again.

"Roight, roight," says the very literate Ozzy, squinting at her hands. "D is for drink. Got it." It's possible that he just taught her how to tell a lowercase b and d apart. D is the one your drink hand makes.

Look, at least she is learning a thing.

"Food," he says, "will be served from your left. The meals will come in several courses, ye won't get to just have everything at once as ye would in a normal house. It'll be soup first, usually, if it's a six-course meal, which is most of the proper fanciest ones."

He appears at her left to set a shallow soup bowl down atop her plate. There is no soup in it. Soup might be considered Advanced for Ozzy.

"Your basic silverware rule is, ye start from the outermost and work your way in. So the spoon ye want for your soup is the one farthest to the right there."

"Why they got so many spoons though?" Ozzy asks, gingerly touching her fingertips to the handle of the soup spoon as though she expects it to give her an electric shock.

"Because, remember, they are too dainty to live. Ye can't use the same piece of silverware twice. What if there was a trace of soup on your spoon when ye went to use it for dessert? Ye might faint, is what." His tone is very, very serious. Too serious.

Ozzy stares at him for a moment, and then bursts out into a cascade of giggles.

"Roight, roight," she says then, and picks up her spoon very delicately, crossing her left hand over herself to do so. She mimes sipping at imaginary soup with exaggerated delicacy, as though she's afraid she might burn her delicate tongue.

"Brilliant," Shine says with that same too-serious seriousness. "I believe ye might be dainty, miss. Now, when you're finished with your soup, ye just lay the spoon down in the bowl and then sit back and ignore the whole thing like it's a servant. Then a real servant will know he can take it away from ye."

Ozzy follows instructions, adopting a rather haughty expression as she does so.

"Oi say, Lord Wrinklesack, the fox 'unt yesterday were so dreadfully dull, innit?" she says with… the right inflection, at least.

Shine, who was just bending at her left to collect her empty soup bowl with a courteous bow, hesitates for a fraction of a second and makes a soft sound that might be a stifled laugh. Then he straightens away and vanishes behind her again.

"Now," he says from behind her. "If we're doing the whole formal six-course business, next one will be either fish or salad. In Kul Tiras — or this house — it'd usually be fish, because Kul Tirans like fish and are sensible enough to put the things they like ahead of the vegetables so that they can be too full and beg off the vegetables when they get there. On the mainland, you're likely to have to eat your vegetables first."

"Oi never unnerstood why people don't loike vegembles," Ozzy says. "Specially fresh, they're loike 'eaven to me. So juicy an' crisp an' the flavors boite ya roight back."

Maybe most people don't enjoy being bitten, Ozzy.

"That is a mark of excellent character in ye," Shine says placidly, because good servants can make it seem like they have the appropriate opinion for every person and situation even if that's not quite what he said. "So, lucky you then on the mainland: ye get your veg first." He sets a small plate down before her. "And silverware goes from the outside in, so the fork ye want now is…?"

Ozzy enthusiastically hits the fork on the far left! Unfortunately she hits it a little too enthusiastically, and on the fork end, causing it to do a little flip forward, landing with an unseemly clatter. She giggles in delight before she remembers to look dismayed and apologetic. "Erm, tha' one?" she guesses.

Shine is smiling at her. He nods. "Very good, aye. And salad knife?"

"Oh, erm…." She peers at the knives and very carefully pokes the one farthest to the right, this time with her right hand. "It's pretty easy, innit? Once someone tells you the trick? Because they take 'em away when you're done, roight? So it's always the outside one."

"Exactly right. And for all your courses but soup, you'll have a fork and a knife even if ye think, 'What do I want a knife for wi' this salad?' because first off, ye might be too dainty to live if ye can't cut all your food into doll-sized pieces, and second because ye need both utensils to signal your servants." He is silent for a moment, assessing. "And you're left handed, ye say? Let's see how ye eat, if ye playact a bite of salad for me so I can see."

Ozzy slowly turns crimson. "Um, well normally oi'd just use me 'ands," she says. "Oi ain't never used a knoife an' fork much, an' the one toime oi remember, that was for a big cut o' meat even oi knew I shouldn't jus' pick up an' boite into in front o' people. Even so, the way Merry looked a' me, I don't fink I was usin' 'em roight. So… maybe you jus' show me…?"

Shine nods equably. He steps back and out of sight again for a few moments. When he returns, he is carrying his own fork and knife and an empty plate. He sets these beside Ozzy's place setting, shifts the neighboring chair over slightly to align it, and sits down. "The most likely awkwardness will be with cutting things, because you'll want your left hand for that, aye?" He mimes with his silverware the action of holding an invisible Food in place with his fork and cutting it with his (right-handed) knife, then lifts a brow at her.

"Ohhhhh yeah, I was 'oldin' it OLL wrong," Ozzy admits, still flushed.

She carefully observes the way he positions and grips the fork, and tries to mirror it, hands reversed. She is mostly successful.

"Oh, oi see the problem, yeah," she says, as she starts to mimic the cutting motion and accidentally jabs him with her elbow.

Shine does not look put out by the elbow-jab. He nods at her. "That's a thing — ye can't be expected to change hands or the like, that's your hand, so. Just a thing to know ye must be careful of. Keep your elbows close. Which hand d'ye hold your fork after ye've cut?"

Ozzy tucks her elbow in close as she considers this. He may as well have asked her to solve a complex riddle, from the look on her face.

"Oi fink…" She gently mimes cutting again, staring at the empty plate. "Well… oi'd just leave the fork in the same 'and, roight?" she says, looking uncertainly at him as though this may be a test. She tentatively brings the fork to her mouth with her right hand, tapping the tines against her lower lip as though in thought.

Shine nods. "There isn't really a wrong answer to that. I'm asking because of what other people will infer from it. In Stormwind Proper, right-handed folk cut their food and then lay the knife down on the plate and switch the fork to the right hand. In certain parts of the north — including Kul Tiras, and I would wager Gilneas — people don't switch but just keep eating wi' the fork in the same hand.

"Sometimes people will be snobs about one or the other, because rich people always have something to be snobby about if they've run out of other things. Lady Sintha is forever trying to get Fallon to switch his fork-hand, the Stormwind way, because it's more… modern, and Stormwind Proper. And he won't do it because he can't be arsed, frankly. You'll be sort of an in-between, because ye don't switch hands, which is northern and old-fashioned, but ye do have the fork in your right hand, which is Stormwind.

"So who knows? Maybe ye have the best compromise of all. You're doing all the fork manners at once." He smiles faintly at her.

Ozzy dissolves into giggles again, her expression somewhere between pleased and giddily amused.

"Oi've solved the fork dilemma!" She declares. "People will be copyin' me roight an' left, pun intended, so as no' to offend anybody in this 'ere our newly mul-tye-cultural socie'y!" She then leans in a little, lowering her voice conspiratorially even though they are the only two people in the room. "Really it's just because oi'm too lazy to switch," she pseudo-confesses.

Shine leans likewise conspiratorially toward her. "It's a bloody nuisance. I think Stormwind started doing it just to inconvenience the rest of us."

He sits back again. "Show me how ye cut now, elbow in?"

Ozzy nods determinedly and tucks her elbow in, cutting a bit awkwardly but at least not in a way likely to drive his own right arm (and the knife it's holding) violently toward his person.

"Very nice," he approves. "A quick study. Now — supposing you're having your conversation with Lord Wrinklesack and it's so enthralling that ye need to stop eating for a bit to chat. But you're not done, so ye don't want your plate taken away. So ye lay your silverware down on your plate like so, and the staff will know you're not done." He lays his knife across the top of his plate, and then his fork at an angle like a minute hand pointing at twenty past the hour. "This is the Stormwind way. It's the only one ye need to know, honestly, because most of the nobles you'll be hobnobbing with will be Stormwind ones, and as you're someone who has her fork on the right anyway, it's convenient for ye. The northern way's more convenient for fork on the left."

Ozzy studies the arrangement of his knife and fork and mimics it as best she can. "Any partic'lar reason fer it?" she asks. "Or is it just anuvver 'this is 'ow we do it, stop arskin' questions' kinda fing?"

"Well, consider how it looks. Ye were eating wi'the fork in your right hand, and now the fork's still just set down near your right hand where ye might pick it up again. The knife ye've set farther aside, separate from the fork, because when ye pick it up again you'll be using 'em in separate hands, right?

"When ye want to signal that you are finished with your plate, ye lay the fork and knife like this." He lays the silverware together in parallel at that same twenty-past angle. "Because that doesn't look like ye might pick them up again. You're not going to take 'em both up in your right hand to use 'em, aye?"

She studies the arrangement for a moment and then smiles, eyes lighting up.

"Hey!" she says, like she's just gotten the punch line of a joke. "Tha' actually makes sense!"

She arranges her knife and fork the same way, then slants him a slightly dubious look, as though she can't believe the nobles would actually do something for a reason other than just to be fancy and complicated.

Shine smiles warmly back at her and cocks his brow in a slightly ironic fashion that says, I know, right?

Ozzy goes a little pink in response to his smile, then picks up her fork and fidgets in a manner reminiscent of pushing nonexistent food around on her plate. The fork tines scrape gently over the empty porcelain. "So wot do I need to know about which servants is wot? Footman brings drinks and food, yeah? Anyone else I orter know about, an' when it moight come up?"

"Oh, aye. So — ye met Vane, at the door. He's the butler." Shine nods to her. "Remember when we were talking before, and I said first footman's sort of the second in command of the servants? Butler's first. He oversees the staff. I was it before Vane, for about fifteen minutes. Got a promotion from first footman and then retired." He smiles ruefully.

"Footmen will wait table, run errands and the like, but some of them will also travel wi' their lord or lady when they go out in a carriage or whatnot. The ones who do that, they're bodyguards as well, one of their jobs. Used to be all of the Fallon footmen were that, but we've hired on some new lads since the family's got bigger and we've had some staff changes, and there's a few of those do a very pretty job of setting a table but I wouldn't trust not to shoot their own arses off with a pistol."

Ozzy giggles again, this time ending in a very unladylike little snort. "Is there ever footladies, too? An'… butleresses?" she asks.

Shine considers. "Footladies, none I know of, but I'm not acquainted with every servant on the mainland." He smiles faintly. "Lady butlers there are, in some houses, but not called butleresses. Usually just butler will do, though some — whether men or ladies — will use more old-fashioned titles on the preference of their own lord or lady. If they're the person who greets houseguests and oversees the staff, they're the butler."

"Maybe if I don't nab me a blueblood 'usband, " Ozzy says, "oi could be someone's butler-lady. Or footlady. You know, maybe I'll learn just enough oi can be more graceful an' quiet-loike, even if I don't learn enough to pass for a real lady. Maybe oi could work for Merry, since she gone to all this trouble tryin'a get me rough edges all smooved out."

Shine nods seriously. "I expect ye could, if ye find the work suits. It's a bit how I ended up here. And it would be a sure way to have a decent employer."

Ozzy beams as though he's just told her that Deathwing is dead.

"It's kinda noice," she says. "'Avin' plans fer once. Backup plans. Of course Greymane 'ad plans too an' look 'ow tha' turned out. But still." Her smile widens. "Fanks fer 'elpin' me."

Shine smiles at her and bows his head courteously. "I'm very glad to, Ozzy."