Of the moon

The vastness of the world could never be so evident than when the wind blew. Farnley drew in deep breaths, revelling in all the scents the wind brought him. Grass was growing thicker and greener in the afternoon so close to spring. Somewhere a rabbit hid, farther off a bear, damp with sea water, was eating berries. So many of his people were so miserable, some had even killed themselves, but this "curse" to Farnley, was a gift.

He stood off the road, in the shadow of a bush, his great body hidden by it and a tree, anyone on the road below him would not have a hope of seeing him. When he stood up straight he was fully 10 feet tall, his yellow eyes piercing from a sharp face covered with glossy black fur. Some Gilneans not "cursed" hunted those that were, hoping to purge the curse from their people, Genn had been wise to lead them from Gilneas and take the offered hand of the Night Elves. Out in the world, the hunters of the cursed ones would themselves be easy to hunt. The thought of having Godfrey within his grasp...Farnley dug 6 inch claws into the bark of the tree beside him, how devine it would be to sink those claws into the one who led those who wanted the cursed dead.
"We have naga that need that attention more than that tree does." a calm voice said, few things could surprise Farnley, but his friend Maugrim was capable of sneaking up on him. He laid his ears back, turning his head to cast a bemused smile at Maugrim "I was just thinking of Lord Godfrey." he said, digging his claws in deeper "Then the tree should have been torn down by now." Loco leaned against a tree behind Maugrim, her yellow eyes bright in her dark face, her entire family had been slain by Godfrey, more than Farnley and Maugrim, she had reason to hate him. Farnley withdrew his claws, and patted the tree "our Night Elf friends would not care for me treating trees like I would like to treat Godfrey, for their sake, I am restrained." He smiled, long fangs shining in the fading light as twilight moved in.
Loco smiled "Well, I'll leave the elves to hug their trees, we need to clear out some naga, tis a task I find more to my liking than tree hugging." She dropped to all fours and lept past him, shooting ahead with stunning speed. Maugrim cast him a brief grin then shot off after Loco. Digging in with his hind claws, Farnley lept after them and soon was again reveling in scents compounded by the joy of speed. Farnley had been a craftsman working late on an armor set for Maugrim when a worgen had grabbed him from the shadows, sinking fangs into his shoulder then releasing him and disapearing. He had fallen sick, Maugrim had come to try and help him, but had quickly moved him from his home to the basement below a stable nearby, where Loco had told him what had happened. "There is no recovery, there is only control, you are one of us now, a son of the moon." and he had been given the elixer that had nearly killed him.
The months that followed had been chaos. They were hunted endlessly, investigators visited Farnley over and over at his shop asking after Loco "Her family is frightened for her, they have safely moved to the medical compound and want her with them." he was told. He would meet their gazes "I barely knew her, and I have not seen her since her family left." 
The attacks of the Forsaken became worse, Farnley would never forget the first time he had seen Sylvanas. He had been hidden in the sacred water of a baptismal in a church beside Loco and Maugrim. She was stunning, in a deadly..evil..dead way, and carried an air of pure, deep, viciousness beyond even the most wild of the worgen. An orc warlord had met her gaze without the slightest bit of fear, meeting the eyes of the undead queen calmly, he was an impressive being in his own right, the orc, Farnley had seen few of them until that day. The Horde wanted Gilneas taken, there had even been emmisaries that had breeched the idea of joining the horde to Gilnean lords. For a time the debates over that had been heated, especially among the worgen who knew they would likely be best accepted by the people of the horde, Godfrey and his croonies had won out, and ultimately, loyalty to Greymane was the decider.
Farnley had a talent for stealth, he had always been amazingly good at hunting, and even before the gift had come to him, he had been able to get anywhere he wanted to go reguardless of locked doors, guards etc, and had stunned his instructors with his natural skill with daggers and swords. His first passion though was always working with leather, even as they travelled, working for the Night Elves, "Being Night Elf errand boys" Maugrim called it, Loco said it was the best way to increase the standing of their people within the alliance. Even as they ran errands, he would screech to a halt and dash off when he spotted a bear with a particularily fine hide, making Loco and Maugrim wait while he dispatched the animal, skinned it and set it's hide, carefully salted, into his pack for later use. "Well, I guess we will never lack for meat." Loco had sighed the last time Farnley had made them wait.
Whether the Alliance people would ever accept the worgen remained to be seen. Farnley had spent time in Stormwind, selling some hides and a few of his armor sets so they would have travelling money. So long as the moon was not up and full, he could choose to walk in his human form, and nobody would give him a second glance, but if he walked about, 10 feet tall, 6 inch claws clicking on the paving stones, the people of the allliance recoiled. Women would yank their children behind their skirts, as if he might grab and devour them, and merchants wrinkled their noses when he stood near, as if the smell of the sun on his pelt was worse than the stink of their unwashed sweaty skin.
So he took to doing his trading in his human form, not willing to accept less for his work just because some fool was frightened or repulsed by him. The rest of the time though, he stood proudly as what he was, and had no problem baring fangs and rumbling a growl at anyone who looked sideways at him, he'd already cracked a stormwind guard like a shiny egg for a comment about being "nasty unwashed dog, Varian should keep you on chains." The dead guards fellows had admitted he had taunted Farnley, and Varian had let him go, Genn had been much less forgiving, ordering Farnley to behave himself and warning him that the next time he killed someone he WOULD end up on a chain. "Were it not for your service helping our people escape Gilneas, you would be on a chain now Farnley, do not shame your people or your king again, CONTROL the beast within or you deserve to be called such names." He had felt badly about it, well, for his king being upset, he honestly felt no remorse over the dead guard, fear born respect was better than no respect, when they had left the city, walking past the guards, he could smell the fear on them, and not a word was spoken by any of them.