No one asks the dragon if they really like the taste

A long, low rumble sounded from underneath the two of them. From the very rock underneath. He looked over at her, his question of “where is the dragon?” falling away from his mind when realization struck.

“How soon are we getting eaten?” he asked the elf.

She might have bit her lower lip, but not hidden in her foresty home she obviously didn’t want to appear less than perfect. So, instead, those lips twitched as she refrained from doing so. “You might want to fly, fae.”

He almost spoke up, then remember. Right, the spell was still active. She thought he was fae. If he was, he would definitely fly away. As it was, he was a centaur in disguise and had no idea.

Time to pretend chivalry. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“I will talk with the dragon,” she said, as if she believed she really could.

“Will you now?” asked the dragon underneath them, opening his canyon of a mouth.

As they dropped down, he considered how now one had ever told him dragons were this big.

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