"Go home and ask your elders just how terrifying Moonlight Marsh used to be."
"You've already run out of chances, because this year, she's waking up."
"The fun match championship? Just my little welcome gift to everyone."
"I hope you enjoyed it."
The entire spectator arena fell silent, as if someone had cast a mass mute spell.
The younger ones turned to the elders beside them, their eyes asking the obvious question: Is that true?
The older ones, however, all fixed their gaze on the nearest current Moonlight Marsh students and alumni.
They were easy enough to spot—earlier, when Moonlight Marsh Rita had taken the top spot, these were the ones cheering, clapping, or laughing. Most with clear loyalties wore their school's crest over their hearts.
In Mistblade's section, neither she, Maple Syrup, nor Fat Goose dared to move, sitting stiff-backed and silent. Even the black cat, the blood elf, and the tauren nearby kept their eyes forward, avoiding glances.
