The little dragon, Perlivash, darts up and through the trees snatching the clothing from them with all the agility of a hummingbird. He returns them in a big messy pile with only a few branches and leaves in it.
He gives Celyne a wink.
Search Posts
In everyone's mind's eye (aside the Bee-King's perhaps) there is the very strong suggestion that the reason the Bee-King's fights rarely go 10 rounds is because he is usually on his ass dreaming of golden beer by the end of round 1 or 2.
Perlivash looks completely innocent laying curled up asleep on a large rock. Rainbow colored smoke curls from his nostrils at every long slow breath. Tyg giggles.
From nearby Celyne's hand there comes a crunching noise, and a tiny brightly colored dragon with the wings of butterfly fades into view. "Ish alwite. I think moth of it is tallow." The dragon pipes in with it's mouth full. It swallows. "Could do with some onions." |