#thechildrenoflore

       “okay, from one dragon to another,” he started and his tail whipped crazily behind him that he had to snatch it and tuck it in one of his belt loops. “how do you keep these clean?” he spread one red leathery wing and struggled to reach for the back, “i can’t reach my back.”

“How long do you think it’ll take before we reach that place you’ve been talking about?” A curious question that Ivern wanted to ask the redhead even before they set out. A hand gripped tightly against the leather strapped across his chest, his pace enough to maintain his distance to the little dragon. The dusk was approaching fast and he was unsure up to how long will it take for the pair to even reach a campsite for them to take a rest and gather their strength for the next day.

“Why would you be bothered? I mean, I’m just being honest.”

He coughed a little, and in a small, meek voice, he asked, “Do you know who I am?”

The Dragon was already kneeling at the woman’s feet, but her words made his fury double over. “I am not weak!” he growled. He felt his claws dig into his palms as he stared up at the Queen. “I will never be as weak. Gods have no weakness.” He shivered a little, feeling her rage as well, and promised himself that he wouldn’t enjoy this situation. ‘You were never my Queen.”

“Not a chance,” her husband groaned as the she wolf continuously went for his neck. “Besides, we’re married. Everybody knows we need our ‘down time’. A quasi-dangerous smile flitted across his lips. “The kids are taken care of. It’s just us now.”  

“Is it just me or Martin’s the: Stalker-ish type of guy?”

They had been at it for hours and he still hadn’t gotten her. The next move took him by surprise. He didn’t expect the knife. He slowly raised his arm nd backed away. His face began to sweat, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Hey,” he stammered, “I thought we were sparring. No weapons.”