Jul 17, 2013
Summer gave a low whistle of awed admiration from the top of the tree. "Oi. Golden one. How many of those are from me?" He chirped as the wind swayed the branches he was resting on.
Conquest gave the man a rude gesture. “Not a single one. You’re not good enough to leave marks like these," he hissed. A low rumble came from the dragon as he shifted into the water of the spring, hiding the scars below the water’s surface. “Now, get out of here before I give you a couple of marks like these."