A Brief Visit Back to the Bathhouse

The light ding of a tiny bell being rung echoes through the air. Two pairs of feet – one bare and inhuman, the other wearing sandals that used to be boots – step into this large and spacious lobby, the noisy sounds of Raseyne’s busy streets finally muffled as the decorated door clicks shut behind their backs.

“How may we help you?”

That well-practiced greeting pulls Beryl’s wandering gaze towards a desk manned by two attractive women. “We’d like ta rent a private bath, please.” She speaks before her barbaric lover can, long and pointed ears wiggling with amusement at that fact.

One of the receptionists raises an eyebrow, critically looking these two scantily clad customers over, leaving the responsibility of responding to her coworker. “That will be two hawks.”

Krvavy nods, grabbing her little purse and opening it up in the short time it takes to reach that desk. “Here.”

The slightly judgmental receptionist accepts the Drakling’s payment, glancing at the requested two coins for just a brief moment before dropping them into a drawer.

“I will show you two to your room.” The other receptionist politely states, rising to her feet.

A mischievous, twinkling light dances across Beryl’s bright blue-green eyes as that attractive attendant walks past her, leading them out of the lobby. She nudges her Draconic lover in the side and not so subtly gestures towards this random woman’s shapely ass, the thin white fabric of a long dress clinging to those enticing cheeks, caught in the crack between them.

Krvavy just shakes her head and quietly sighs at her Elf’s antics, doing her best to not stare at those nicely swaying hips. It helps that she already has an infinitely more beautiful woman by her side.

“Here we are.” The attendant’s words are rather cheerful... in an empty, customer service kind of way. “If you need anything, just ring this bell.” She, perhaps needlessly, points at a bell hanging just through the open doorway in front of them.

“Will do, thank ya~!” Lithe body brimming with energy, Beryl hardly waits for the attendant to turn around before dragging her Draconic lover into that room.

The curtain swishes as it slides into place, completely covering the doorway and providing a decent amount of privacy in the process.

“Oh my, ‘ave we been racially profiled~?” Barely restrained laughter underlines the Wood Elf woman’s words, her blue-green gaze trailing over the depiction of leafy forest that has been painted onto the walls all around them, branches stretching across the ceiling above.

“Nah, I got a slightly cloudy sky last time. So it looks like it’s just you that got profiled~.” Krvavy casually replies, shrugging off her backpack and already working to remove her skimpy pelt top, and then her loincloth.

“Well then, Ah’m a bit insulted. This is ‘ardly even a proper forest!” The tanned tomboy exaggeratedly complains, stepping towards the wall so that she can poke its offending tiles. “Ah can see blue sky between the trunks! And the canopy is far too thin!”

A warm smile pulls at the corners of Krvavy’s lips, even as she shakes her head and turns towards the faucet, beginning the lengthy process of filling this large tub. The stress from earlier in the day might not be easily forgotten, but neither is it able to linger at the front of her mind. “Are you having fun acting like Thea?” Krvavy idly asks, unable to keep amusement from leaking into her attempt at maintaining a serious voice.

“Careful now~!” Beryl playfully cautions, ears wagging with joy. “Yer brat’d give ya a good whack if she ‘eard ya say tha’~!”

The Drakling’s smile grows into a grin. “Good thing that she’s not here then, huh~?”

“Aye, but not because o’ tha’~.” The soft thump of Beryl’s backpack being placed onto the floor is just barely audible over the sound of water flowing from the tap. “Seein’ this place’d give ‘er ideas~. She’d want ya ta spruce up the ‘ot springs, or at least the pond we usually bathe in~.”

“That’s not a bad idea, but...”

“Ya’ve already got a lot on yer plate, aye~?”

“Hah, Inanna has given me so much work that I can’t even see the plate anymore...” Krvavy sighs and turns to look at her sweet berry. The slight bit of exhaustion brought on by simply being reminded of all of that unfinished construction work, the fortifications that need to be built, is pushed aside in an instant.

The tomboyish Elf’s skimpy leather shorts lie on the nicely tiled floor, accompanied by the matching strap of a top and some basic undergarments.

But that isn’t what catches Krvavy’s attention. No, the Drakling’s emerald eyes are locked firmly on Beryl’s sculpted ass, hypnotized by those firm cheeks as they rhythmically sway back and forth. Taut muscles ripple beneath tanned, caramel skin as the Elf moves her weight from one foot to the other.

The sound of a sandal dropping to the floor snaps Krvavy from her reverie. Her gaze moves down from Beryl’s perfect butt, meeting the mischievous eyes and teasing smirk that fills that tomboy’s upside-down face.

“Enjoyin’ the view~?”

“Do you need to bend over like that?” Krvavy sighs in exaggerated exasperation, a bit of a blush colouring her cheeks.

“O’ course not~!” Beryl playfully laughs, giving her lithe hips an alluring wiggle as she straightens back up... only to stretch her arms high above her head, wiry muscles tensing as rises onto the balls of her feet, enjoying being free from her (lightweight and more or less empty) backpack. “But Ah could, so Ah did~! Are ya really goin’ ta complain about tha’~?”

“Yes.” Krvavy plainly returns. “Because I don’t want to get kicked out of here. Or banned from coming back.”

“They didn’t say tha’ we couldn’t get a bit frisky~!” The teasing tomboy adds, twisting at the waist as she continues her unnecessary stretching, all but putting her pert breasts on display for the Drakling.

“Because that’s typically a given. Now get over here and pick what soap you want us to use.”

“Oh~?” A mischievous smile spreads across the Wood Elf’s face. “Lettin’ me–” she suddenly cuts herself off, wincing slightly as she steps a bit too close to the soap covered shelf, her enthusiasm being smothered rather swiftly. “Tha’ is... quite an intense mix of scents...”

“Yup.” Krvavy can’t help but grin as her sweet berry’s teasing comes to such an abrupt end. “And all of the bottles are closed right now.”

“Ach... Humans.” Beryl’s accent fades just enough for her to properly pronounce that single word, voice dripping with contempt. “Drownin’ their filth in such excessive perfumes... It’s like subtlety is a foreign concept fer them.” The unhappy tomboy puts some distance between her and the pungent shelf, standing on the other side of Krvavy. “Wha’ did ya use last time, my dearest love?”

“Uh...” Krvavy scan the shelf, once again feeling annoyed at the fact that none of the bottles have labels. Hopefully the colours are kept consistent between the different rooms in this place... “This one, I think...?” She grimaces as she brings a bottle up to her nose. “Oof... stronger than I remember... But yeah, it was this one. Or at least it was pretty close to this.”

The nude Elf reluctantly lets that bottle of soap get pushed into her hands, skeptically staring straight at it. “Not too... distasteful, Ah suppose...” She slowly states, having hardly even smelled the thing. Not that she exactly needed to bring it up to her nose to breathe in its artificial scent... “Good choice, considerin’ the options.”

“It’ll take some time for the tub to fill,” the Drakling idly comments, stepping away from that nauseating shelf. “But do you want to get in there anyway?”

“Aye, why not? Beats standin’ around and waitin’.” Beryl cautiously steps into the pleasantly hot water, placing the soap within arms reach of the edge. Not too far away to be inconvenient, but not to close to be overwhelmed by it. “Ah take it tha’ this is where ya got the white marble?”

“That’s right.” Krvavy lowers herself into the large tub, settling down across from her Elf. “You’ll probably get to see some of the other places I’ve taken samples from. There is a fair bit of variety in this city, at least when it comes to types of stone.” A faint frown makes its way onto her face. “I am still kind of annoyed that my magic doesn’t work on glass though...”

“Sculpt Stone doesn’t work on glass~?” Beryl’s teasing tone makes a return, her eyes twinkling with a lively light. “Who would ‘ave ever guessed tha’~?”

The barbarian shrugs. “I can be disappointed even if it is expected.”

“Aye. Just as Ah can be disappointed tha’ ya aren’t sittin’ right beside me~.” The tomboyish Elf returns, tapping the gradually rising water in invitation. “Are ya goin’ ta leave me feelin’ let down~?”

“I’m considering it.”

“Oy!”

An arrogant grin spreads across Krvavy’s face as she sits back and watches her athletic Elf move across the tub to sit by her side. “You forgot the soap.” She so generously points that out before Beryl can settle in and get comfortable.

“Ach...”

“So...” Krvavy casually accepts the returning Elf into her embrace, strong arm getting slung across toned shoulders. “Are you looking forwards to finally getting to meet Rina?”

“Do ya need ta ask tha’, my dearest love?” Beryl quirks her brow and tilts her head, letting a little bit of sass into her voice. “Tha’ is the main reason Ah came on this trip. Ah’ve got ta make sure tha’ ya ‘aven’t just fallen fer a nice pair o’ tits~.”

“Now come on,” the Drakling returns her Elf’s gaze and tone. “Do you, of all people, really think that’s all it takes to catch my attention~?” She deliberately pokes one of Beryl’s pert breasts, causing that small handful of firm flesh to jiggle just a bit.

“Ah didn’t say they ‘ad ta be big, just nice.” The lithe tomboy replies, lifting her chin and putting on a rather haughty expression. The mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her lips, as well as the joyful wiggling of her Elvish ears, kind of spoils that attempt. “And wouldn’t ya say tha’ Ah ‘ave a nice pair~?”

“Hmm...” Without any hesitation, Krvavy leans in and palms both of those perky mounds, ‘lifting’ one and then the other. “They’re alright, I sup–” her appraisal is interrupted by a splash of water. “-pose.”

“Just alright?” There is no real anger in Beryl’s voice, but that doesn’t stop the Elf from trying to act offended.

“Yup.” Krvavy grabs onto both of Beryl’s wrists before she can be splashed again. That she had to let go of the tomboy’s tits to do so is a sacrifice that she, unfortunately, had to make. “They’re nice, but not your main appeal. No, no. That is a bit further down~. Past your tight tummy, but above those lovely long legs and terrifically toned thighs~. Can you guess which amazing part I’m talking about~?”

The tips of Beryl’s pointed ears turn red as a faint blush begins to colour her caramel cheeks. “No, my dearest love, Ah can’t. Would ya mind explainin’ wha’ ya’re tryin’ ta talk about~?”

“Your beautiful butt,” the barbarian bluntly blurts out, “your oh so alluring ass~. It’s perfect, haven’t I told you that before~? Not too big, not too small~. Delightfully toned with just the right amount of firmness, like a living sculpture~. A pleasant, perfect, amount of squish~. It doesn’t look out of place, but still naturally draws attention~. It is perfectly paired with your slim waist, your elegant hips, and of course those legs of yours~. I could go on and on about the way it sways when you walk and the way it jiggles when I bend you over~... It’s just perfect~. There is really no other word to describe your amazing ass~...!”

The Wood Elf’s pert breasts rise and fall with each increasingly ragged breath that she takes. “M-my dearest love,” she gasps, pausing for a moment to lightly nibble on her bottom lip. “Wha’ ‘appened ta not wantin’ ta do anythin’ tha’d get us kicked out o’ ‘ere~...?”

“What about that~?” Krvavy wraps her arm back around Beryl’s slightly trembling shoulders, pulling the tomboyish woman up against her side. “We’re just talking, aren’t we~?”

“Ach, ya...!” Beryl can’t seem to work up the will to scold that degenerate Drakling for so cruelly teasing her. “Ach... The wa’er is ‘igh enough now, right...?”

“I suppose so.” Krvavy lets her lithe Elf get away with changing the subject like that, reaching over to turn off the tap. “Ready to add the soap?”

Beryl simply sighs and, shooting a glare at that strongly scented bottle, nods her head.

The faintest of frowns has found its way onto Beryl’s face. “Ah’m startin’ ta feel a little underdressed, my dearest love.” She confesses, a tiny tinge of anxiety audible in her voice.

“You’re wearing more now than you were earlier.” Krvavy plainly points out, gently squeezing her sweet berry’s hand.

“Aye, but we’re walkin’ inta ‘igh society now. And rich folk are always excessive.” The lithe Elf scowls slightly as she looks down at herself, her free hand brushing along the blue-green fabric of her sundress. “Ah love this dress tha’ ya’ve given me, Ah really do, but Ah can’t ‘elp but feel tha’ it is a bit... underwhelmin’. It doesn’t ‘ave any frills, lace, or poofy parts.”

The barbarian’s brow knits together. “Do you want a dress like that? We could sto–”

“Ach, no, no.” The tanned tomboy quickly interrupts. “Tha’d just make me feel even more out o’ my depth. Ah’d stand out even more than Ah do now, just fer different reasons. Ah’d look like an imposter. Plus, Thea’d kill me if Ah came back wit’ a ‘fancy’ dress like tha’...” She idly shakes her head, before leaning up against her lover’s side as they both walk along this spacious street. “So, my dearest love, Ah’m more than ‘appy wit’ wha’ Ah ‘ave. It’s just a naggin’ feelin’. Nerves, ya know? Nothin’ like earlier though, don’t ya worry about tha’.”

“Are you sure that you don’t want an over designed dress with layers of frilly skirts and a corset so tight that you have trouble breathing~?” Krvavy teasingly asks, a playful smile spreading across her face. “Or do you want to risk making a bad first impression~?”

“My dearest love,” Beryl meets the Drakling’s gaze, her expression flat and her tone serious beyond a doubt. “Ah would rather ya bend me over and fuck me so thoroughly tha’ the only impression anyone could ever ‘ave o’ me is tha’ o’ yer cum-addicted slut.”

“Ahh...” Krvavy slowly nods, “the honest approach~.”

Beryl rolls her eyes and gives that Drakling’s barely covered chest a light slap. “Ah won’t be ‘earin’ tha’ kind o’ teasin’ from a woman who’d more than ‘appily oblige tha’ level o’ degeneracy.”

“Hey, I never said that it was just honest on your part~!” Krvavy’s grin grows wider as she leans her head down, flicking the sensitive tip of her Elf’s pointy ear with her inhumanly long tongue. “That would make it quite clear just what sort of relationship we have and what sort of people we are~!”

“Ach, save yer lust fer the Countess, my dearest love...!” The Wood Elf’s gentle scolding is a bit hard to take serious considering how brightly she is blushing. “Ah’m sure she’ll appreciate the extra energy~.”

“Expecting the night to go a certain way, are we~?”

“Wha’ever do ya mean~?” Beryl innocently asks, batting her eyelashes as she peers up at the Drakling towering above her. “Now...” She clears her throat, purposefully cutting Krvavy off before that particular question of hers can be answered. “Ah don’t want ta sound impatient, but... are we there yet?”

Krvavy smiles and softly shakes her head, once more letting her sweet berry get away with changing the subject so abruptly. “Judging by how fancy everything around us has gotten...” The barbarian gestures past the manicured trees that line this road, vaguely pointing to the various walled off private properties standing on both sides of the street. “We’re pretty close.”

“Tha’ is good.” A relieved sigh escapes past Beryl’s lips. “Seein’ buildin’ after buildin’ after buildin’ is startin’ ta wear on me.”

“If you’re getting tired, then I’d be more than happy to carry you the rest of the way.” This degenerate of a Drakling definitely has no ulterior motive as she makes that offer~.

“Ach, it’s not wearin’ on me in tha’ way.” The tomboyish Elf replies, bumping her elbow into the barbarian’s side. “Ah’m just not a city girl. Ah’ve no love fer all o’... this.”

Krvavy quirks her brow as Beryl gestures to nothing in particular. “So... you don’t want me to carry you~?”

“My dearest love,” Beryl exaggeratedly sighs back, “Ah do not. Got ta make a good first impression, remember? And Ah don’t want ta come across as nothin’ more than an ‘elpless maiden. Ah’m not Thea~.”

“Tsk, what a shame.”

“Tha’ ya can’t carry me, or tha’ Ah’m not Thea~?”

Krvavy glances down at that smug Elf, staring out of the corner of her eyes. “Do you really need to ask?”

“Aye, if Ah want ta tease ya.” Beryl cheekily replies, before something up ahead catches her attention. “Oh, is tha’ our destination?”

The barbarian reluctantly looks away from her tanned tomboy. Further along the road stands a large stone arch, stretching across the nicely cobbled pavement. “More or less,” she answers with a shrug.

“Lots o’ open space and greenery through there...” The Wood Elf unconsciously leans forward as she walks, trying to get a better view of what is beyond that arch.

“Yeah.” Krvavy idly nods her head. “There are enough trees and flowers in there that you might forget that we’re in the middle of a pretty big city.”

“Tha’ is a bold claim.” The tanned tomboy skeptically narrows her eyes, critically scanning the park-like expanse of grass, trees, and flowerbeds. “One tha’ Ah’m not quite convinced by, my dearest love.”

“This is just the outside of Rina’s property. It’s pretty plain compared to the gardens that are on the inside.”

Beryl doesn’t look all that convinced, but she also doesn’t look like she actually cares all that much either. After all, they aren’t here to look at flowers and manicured lawns. Though if they were... this would be the place to do just that.

A comfortable quiet surrounds the two lovers as they follow the gently curving road, holding hands all the while.

Unlike the last time that Krvavy was here, there are actually a few other people in this park. Scattered around in the distance, barely visible past all of the trees and flowerbeds, are what appears to be a few separate families hanging around. As well as some couples having picnic dates. From what Krvavy can see, all of those people appear to be rather well dressed, including the children, but not quite to the same degree that the rich partygoers were. Guess those kinds of people would have their own properties to enjoy...

“Hahh...” Beryl breaks the silence with a relaxed sigh. “Our long journey is nearin’ its end, my dearest love.”

The well-maintained road ends some distance ahead, passing over an arched bridge and leading into the beautifully whitewashed castle that is the Countess’ home.

“Long journey~?” The barbarian’s emerald eyes gleam like the gems they share a colour with, pale lips curling into a teasing smile. “It has hardly even been a week~. That’s barely even a blink of the eye for a long-lived Elf such as yourself~.”

“Ah may ‘ave lived through many a winter, but tha’ doesn’t mean Ah stopped lookin’ forward ta the end o’ each one.” Those wise words freely flow from the Wood Elf’s slightly smug lips.

“Didn’t you grow up in a place that was eternally spring?”

“Ach, come on.” Beryl exaggeratedly sighs, waving off that fair point. “We’ve spent days upon days just walkin’. And not even through an interestin’ landscape. So let me enjoy this brief break before we ‘ave ta do it all over again.”

The sound of clinking armour reaches the ears of both Elf and Drakling.

Two knights in polished armour stand in the gatehouse’s shade. Their elegant halberds lower, blocking off the path as their decorated weapons cross into an X.

“State your business.” One of the knights calls out, the plume of long black feathers atop his helmet gently swaying in the calm breeze.

A hint of concern, of nervous anxiety, clings to Krvavy’s heart. Only to be quite easily pushed aside. “We’re here to visit the Countess.” She calmly responds. The process of passing through this gatehouse is not new to her, even if these particular guards may be. It is honestly hard to tell, with those suits of armour obscuring their identities...

Both knights shift ever so slightly, their helmets turning just enough to barely glance at each other. After a moment, one of them speaks up. “State your name, Drakling.”

“Krvavy.”

The crossed halberds rise in unison, lifting with them the last lingering worries that plagued Krvavy’s mind. In relation to these two armed men, at least. “You may enter. Head straight to the main hall.”

The barbarian politely bobs her head, before leading Beryl through the gatehouse. A smile plays at her lips as she feels the Elf’s grip on her hand tighten. And not in a way that would reignite her worries, thankfully. “Excited, are you~?” Krvavy playfully asks, stepping into the light.

“It’s beautiful in ‘ere...” Awe underlines Beryl’s breathless voice, her blue-green gaze trailing over the opulent gardens that surround them. But the more she sees, the more her brow slowly knits together. “If a bit... a bit too orderly...”

“See, I knew you’d like it~.” Krvavy takes advantage of Beryl’s distraction to stop holding hands, instead wrapping that arm around her lithe Elf’s shoulders.

A faintly pink flush fills the tanned tomboy’s caramel coloured cheeks as she pulls her gaze away from the beautiful bushes. “Ach, ya don’t need ta sound so smug.” She halfheartedly grumbles, leaning into the barbarian’s body.

“No, I don’t.” Krvavy agrees, giving her sweet berry a soft squeeze. “But~...!”

“It is fun...” Beryl completes her Draconic lover’s thought with an exaggeratedly sigh. Her exasperated act doesn’t last long though, not with the Countess’ beautiful mansion just up ahead. “Ah take it tha’ we just need ta walk up ta the front door and knock?”

“Yup.” The Drakling nods, glancing at the fancy pond of a moat as they walk across the decorated bridge which stretches across that lily pad filled water. “Just don’t expect her to be standing around waiting for us to arrive.”

“Ah would never.” Beryl’s serious tone is spoiled by the smile playing at her lips. “The Countess is a busy woman, no doubt. Ah just ‘ope tha’ we won’t ‘ave ta wait until sunset ta see ‘er.”

Krvavy can’t help but glance up at the sky. She can’t quite tell what time it is right now, not with the sun hidden behind this looming mansion as it is, but she knows that it is somewhere around mid to late afternoon. And since it is the middle of summer, it’ll be quite some time until night falls... “If she’s that busy, then we don’t need to stick around. We do have a whole shopping list of things to buy.”

“Aye.” The Wood Elf simply shrugs, the near-silent tread of her sandals cutting off as she and her larger lover come to a stop before the front door to the Countess’ home. “Now, fer the moment o’ truth...”

On her Elf’s prompting, Krvavy grabs onto the ornate metal door knocker, using the fancy metal thing as intended. Three loud and surprisingly echoey booms ring out before the barbarian lowers her hand back down.

The two of them barely have time to step back before the door begins to smoothly open.

“Oh?” An older man with short greying hair stands in the partially opened doorway. “Hello again. Krvavy, was it?” The tuxedo clad butler smiles as his question is answered with a quick nod. “And your companion?” His kind eyes turn towards the tomboy.

Who gives a quick curtsy, nimble fingers grabbing at the hem of her sundress. “Beryl Woodswalker.” The tanned Elf introduces herself.

The butler turns his gaze back towards the barbarian, a single brow raised just a bit. “It would not be presumptuous of me to assume that the both of you would like to stay the night?”

“If that isn’t a problem.” The Drakling responds, trying to act as courteous as she can, hoping that it isn’t actually a problem. It shouldn’t be, judging by the open invitation that the Countess had given her. But who knows? That could have just been Rina being polite to her face all while intending to take it back as soon as she was out of sight, as unlikely as that is.

“I don’t imagine it will be.” A faintly knowing expression fills the butlers face, though he is professional enough to keep it rather subdued. So much so that any supposed knowledge he may have on Krvavy and the Countess’ relationship could have just been the result of this barbarian’s imagination. “Will you require two separate rooms, or just the one?”

“Just the one, thank ya.” Beryl quickly answers, speaking up before Krvavy gets the chance to. An ever so slightly smug smile graces her lips as she glances at her Draconic lover, a playful glint gleaming within her blue-green eyes.

“I can have your belongings brought to the room, if you would like?” The older gentleman offers, glancing at the rough backpacks that both of these guests are wearing.

“Aye, tha’d be lovely, thank ya.” It hardly takes a second for this Wood Elf to slip off her almost entirely empty backpack, quickly handing it over. Krvavy’s own bag follows soon after. “Is the Countess ‘ome and available?”

“Not at the moment, no.” That answer is accompanied by a gentle shake of this butler’s head. “Would you like to tour the gardens while you wait for her return?"

Beryl immediately perks up at that offer. “Oh, tha’ sounds wonderful! Wha’ do ya think, my dearest love?” She latches back onto the barbarian’s arm, hugging it tight to her toned and athletic body as peers up at the taller Drakling, an expectant expression filling her face.

Krvavy takes a deep breath and slowly exhales, in exaggerated defeat. “Alright.” She gives in, a smile playing at her pale lips.

“Just a moment.” The butler snaps his fingers twice in quick succession. After a few seconds, a young maid hurriedly steps into view. “Lynda,” a firm, almost warning, undertone fills his voice as he sees the girl’s eyes widen in surprise. “Show these guests around the gardens.”

“Y-yes sir!” The maid hastily nods her head, before grabbing her stereotypical dress and doing a slightly clumsy curtsy. “Please, follow me.” She politely requests, doing her best to act composed and professional. But that attempt doesn’t last very long at all. She almost immediately loses her footing, from nothing more than the simple act of stepping through the doorway.

“Careful!” Beryl quickly reaches out and steadies the young maid, keeping Lynda from falling.

“Th-thank you...” An embarrassed blush colours that girl’s cheeks, her gaze dropping to the ground as she clasps her gloved hands together in front of her hips, fingers trembling just a bit. After hardly more than a moment, she clears her throat. “The gardens are this way.”

Krvavy raises an eyebrow as she watches the young maid take a very deliberate step forwards. It does not take a genius to see that the girl is worried about stumbling again.

“Come on, my dearest love,” a hint of impatience can be heard in those words, “let’s go see the flowers. And wha’ever else they’re growin’ ‘ere.” Those long and pointed ears wiggle in such a happy way as Beryl’s nimble fingers hook onto Krvavy’s hand, locking together and all but dragging the Drakling along.