"Infuriatingly, no."
I put the little Plood down. "You actually checked?"
Vyrathion sends me an annoyed glance. "Of course I checked. He might have eaten some by mistake. Surely other creatures must also realize the attraction of that sweetest of all substances? Surely they must feel its value? I mean, this one even had wings!"
I pick up a twig and hold my hand out. “Let me help you get clean.”
“Oh, very well.” The dragon graciously gives me his big, clawed hand and I do my best to scrape the grease off it. It’s a thick, rancid grease with a smell that makes me want to retch, completely out of place on the dragon with his otherworldly beauty and demi-god aura. And yet, I have seen him bleed gold and now I have to help clean him. After he’s saved our lives from a giant monster with an ease that I know I might never see from anyone else.
I finish with one hand. “May I see the other one?”
Vyrathion gives me that to clean, too. When I’m done, I toss the twig away, then pull at his arm. “Can you come down?”
“Don’t tell me that thing somehow dirtied my hair-” he begins as he bends down, then breaks off as I kiss his cheek. “Thank you for saving me.”
The gesture happens before I've decided to do it. It may be my only chance to kiss a dragon, and right now he feels almost human.
He stares into my eyes from close by, the light in them piercing me to my soul as he squeezes my hand in his. For a moment I think I made him mad, and my heart starts racing again.
“S-sorry,” I stutter. “I didn’t mean to--”
He calmly straightens, keeping a hold of my hand. “I suppose it is an appropriate sign of awe and respect. At least you smell better than that creature.”
8
- Vyrathion-
Morgan falls asleep surprisingly quickly.
One moment she's sitting beside the tree, rubbing tired eyes and attempting to stay awake. The next, her head is resting against the trunk and her breathing has settled into a slow rhythm. The little Plood curls up beside her as though this arrangement was agreed upon long ago.
I sit a short distance away and watch them both.
The jungle is loud. Creatures screech, hiss, croak and howl from every direction. Branches sway overhead. Something large crashes through distant vegetation before moving away again. None of it concerns me. If anything in this jungle is foolish enough to approach our camp, I will deal with it.
Instead, my attention keeps returning to Morgan.
This is deeply irritating.
I study her for several moments. Her face is relaxed in sleep. The constant questions have finally ceased. She no longer looks frightened or determined or confused. She merely looks small and vulnerable and innocent.
It immediately makes me suspicious. Many dangerous things are small. Many dangerous things also appear harmless and innocent.
I glance toward the little Plood. The creature is awake and its enormous eyes stare back at me through the darkness.
I narrow my own eyes. The Plood continues staring.
"I have concerns," I inform it.
The creature blinks once.
"Yes, about you as well. You’re clearly a spy. But my main concern is that female, Morgan." I lean back against a tree and fold my arms. The Plood appears willing to listen, which already makes it more useful than most beings I encounter. "She’s behaving strangely."
The Plood blinks again.
"You've noticed it, too?"
The creature remains silent. That’s agreement, clear as gold.
