Veton is thankful for: Family (aka Uncle Craetes, Zilaara, and Elodi). Her best friends - Goruth, Celenah, Spat, Lyconis, and Ealenia. Mana totems. Strike, her snowy gryphon & Gust, her pet moth. Romulus and Remus. Reliable and ever-encouraging guildmates. Affordable Dalaran 
Whimsi is thankful for: Tumnus, her loyal feline companion. The vigilant Lady Sylvanas and the undying Forsaken. The balance of the Light and the Shadow. The colors blue and purple. Prayers and kind souls. History and Alchemy books. Levitation spells. Zombie, her noble steed. Bats. Tigule and Foror's Strawberry Ice Cream. Deathknell. Ghost wolves. Undertaker Mordo, Dark Cleric Duesten, Azonifel, and Winterr. Shiniesss. Dank, abandoned tombs.
Tabijin is thankful for: Family, The Stonetusk Tribe, who ensured his survival. Toombah - who saved his daughter. Reser - his only daughter and only reason to wake up every single day. Zabeni - his wife, who had always made him proud. Ayden - who keeps him busy enough to stave off his worries. The Shadow of Paragon - trusty business partners and reliable traders. Hex - Zabeni's pet tiger, who continues his search for his master's belongings in Ashenvale. Terra - his steadfast raptor companion. Lady Taceo - who continues to fund his makeshift "goods shop." Orgrimmar and its colorful inhabitants. The hardships and carefree times which have made him the haggard troll he is today.
Taceo is thankful for: Her parents and their unconditional love and support. Nikolaos - her best friend, fiance and better half. Grymtohr, Berien, Eal', Dalem, Rhathgryn, Rokur, and Laceraito - awesome companions and fellow adventurers (For the HORDE!). SCRRAWL Club! Successful raids. The Horde. Lucius and Zoom. Sturdy shields, sharp weapons, sturdy tanks, and watchful healers. Mana potions. Dalaran food and lodging. Matching armor.
Greyer is thankful for: Being able to wake up every morning. His family - Mother, Father, Faolan, and Farran - even though they are no longer with him. The Lyall Tannery, its legacy, and the safety it offers each night. Spritzer, the young bartender who helped maintain his sanity. Atalanta, his unforgettable childhood friend and sweetheart (even if her heart may ultimately belong to someone else). The pride of Gilneas and the indestructible qualities of its force and kingdom. Veton, who was a constant companion (on the other side of the Gates) for the better part of six months after his mother had died.
Lunette is thankful for: Her husband - Lunarius - and her children - Atellus, Moone, Gardien, and the late Astaire. Her adopted daughter - Adaven the orphan Rogue. Trusty companions Larodath, Yente, Yurriot, Cauthon, and Aschen. Gooa - that once pesky mage who taught her what it took to survive in PvP. Her guild - Unearthed - and its remarkable ability to be prosperous and homely. Her frostsabers - January and Seventeen. The Druids of Moonglade and their support.
Winterr is thankful for: Her herd and tribe, who maintain their undying faith in her every single season since her Coming-of-Age Ceremony. The ways of the Druid and the Earthmother who has blessed her in several ways this past year. The Horde and their warchief, who have honored her services in battle. Those who have coached her on her journey to become a Feral Druid. Whimsi, her unexpected Undead pen pal and fellow botanist.
{...} is thankful for: Greyer and his consideration of not hogging the spotlight... The reforging of alliance with the Horde and the freedom they brought. Pockets full of gold. Technology and good business. The Lost Isles. Security. The sacrifice her younger brother had made to ensure her survival during the naval crossfire that would change the fate of the Goblins of Kezan. Hair accessories, jewelcrafters, and awesome deals on much needed items.
Rese is thankful for: Lunarius and Nikolaos (and the awesome man who makes them the best battle companions ever). Family members who tolerate her love of these pixelated beings and their made-up stories. Ventrilo. Blizzard and the game/s that started it all. Epic guildmates and friends - Sam, Derek, Tony, Matt, Amy, Bob, Mike, Sean, and Dustin. And - of course - Lunette, Taceo, Whimsi, Greyer, Tabijin, Veton, Winterr, Wyler, {...}, and the world they live in.
Hidden away behind the tree near the northern bank of Dalaran, Taceo draped her cloak around her legs. The cool breeze bit at her cheeks and whisked her short hair about her forehead and eyes. She shivered and withdrew a hand out from underneath her cape to pull her worn backpack closer to the large, gnarled root she leaned against. There would be no tanking nor healing duties today. There were much more than dungeons, high quality gear, and other soldiers to worry about. The only thing she knew was that she could not lose anything and anyone she held dear - and that included her beloved guildmates - to a cataclysm.
Whimsi hummed softly as she dumped her backpack and her container of safety deposit box items on the floor of the northern Dalaran bank. She tossed her coin purse back into her backpack and eyed the rest of the knick-knacks that had collected at her feet. Zombie's curious, horned-skull lowered into the pile and she gently shoved him away from his reins and moss-filled feed bag. The skeletal horse nipped at her once and she forced him away with a sallow palm. Tumnus' head peeked out from underneath his owner's backpack flap. Whimsi smiled and scooped him into her lap. He rubbed his head against her ribcage as she snatched up the various of herbs that had tumbled out of a scroll case she had found while exploring earlier. Adeptly, she bundled them up with twine and stored them away properly into their appropriate jars, sorting which containers would be sent to Tabijin and which would be returned to the bank. After gathering the odds and ends and striking a deal with a nearby vendor, she made her way to a mailbox, tripping twice due to Tumnus weaving his way around her ankles. The canister of deadnettle would sell, as would the leftover mageroyal petals and goldclover leaves... A battered mace, a handful of enchanting dust, a sprig of lichbloom, a discolored potion (still tasted 'minty' though), a spiked staff, a necklace of unusually elegant craftmanship... and a hug. Once the items had been arranged neatly into the mailbox, she bent down and placed Tumnus carefully alongside the items and closed the door, positive that the feline would make the old troll smile. She opened the mailbox lid slightly, her luminescent eyes lighting up the dark, empty corners. She furrowed a brow; while she had been expecting mail hawks and owls to swoop down, she realized that her mail had been magically sent. (Damned mages....)
The elderly troll sifted through the piece of mail that had returned to him at Tanka'Le Village. Most of them addressed him with an elegantly written salutation of "Hail Chief Tabi'" or a "Sir Tabijin." Auction money, letter from Lady Taceo, auction money, returned bid, letter from Lady Taceo, package from Whimsi, package from Winterr, Whimsi's request for a cat toy, a bundle of returned auction lots, auction money, Tumnus... Nothing fascinating as usual. The broad-striped tabby cat purred at him and swatted at his hand as he scooped up the rest of the envelopes. He heaved a weary sigh and tucked the items into his backpack before lifting Tumnus out of the mailbox; he'd have to get Taceo to deliver him back to Whimsi yet again.
Veton laid back in her hammock, careful to slowly rest her hooves on the wooden bar closest to the inn entrance. Tanaris held nothing but desert, goblins, and their need for items from places and creatures she could barely face. She wondered what her family would be doing if no one had left the crash site and continued helping with the recovery of their ship. She wondered if she had even the slightest chance to run into Lena, Elodi and Zilaara again. Thoughts of Goruth and Ealenia and the possibility of becoming a battle medic alongside them even crossed her mind. Her tail tip curled as a warm gust of wind blew through the small Gadgetzan inn; she really hated it here.
Rain poured heavily from the sky, seeping its way onto and into anything it landed on. Greyer shook the water from his thick pelt, starting at his tattered ears and neck and working his way down to calves, restoring the fur at his ankles to its previous damp, feathery appearance. He wished he had stashed his armor away for the night; though it provided some protection from the storm, distressed patches and seams sewn together with only waxed cotton cord could not keep him dry. He swallowed and let out a yawn, baring his teeth and curling tongue; after howling for nearly an hour, boredom had finally caught up with him. His eyes focused on his newly-found companion, a tawny-pelted, middle-aged individual by the name of Spritzer. If they hadn't been chased off by their fellow denizens, they would've been in the inn enjoying a pint of ale and enjoying themselves instead of prowling about by the King's Gate, waiting for the rain to stop. Spritzer's sightless eyes shifted from Greyer to the sky above. Greyer snorted and stood up briefly before planting his hands on the muddied path, continuing to head back to his makeshift camp on all fours. The blind bartender's khaki-furred ears swiveled forward and upon hearing Greyer's footfalls above the whispering rain, he set his nose to the ground and followed suit, the claws of each of his paws digging into the soaked terrain.
