Private Tales Flint to the Fire

[Talorgan]

"Arguing?" She blinked, her head snapping back at him after she had lifted her head to try and spy for the signs of the Morays. "Is that what that sound is?"

"Yup," Talorgan replied.

"I don't know why they spend so much of their energy arguing over who gets the best branch."

He shrugged his broad shoulders.

He glanced across at Nadya's profile. They were both separated from their peers. His was an exile of choice, whilst she had fallen into the responsibility of a mighty dragon and her command.

He had expected them to cross that gap quite like they had in the stream. Talorgan smiled as he looked down at his lap.

"Well, that's two of our drinks down. Soon we may have to retire for the night, otherwise I am afraid you wouldn't keep up with the counts of drinks."

"Well you are very small, but still gave a good account of yourself," he chuckled. "Come on, we'll go back to the tent."