Tylora

The spoon paused half way to Tylora’s mouth. She blinked, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her, but the man remained. “No,” she said automatically, dropping the spoon back into the bowl, her appetite gone.

Vaz stared at her with a mixture of hurt and disappointment in his yellow eyes, “how can you say that after all the fun we had last time?”

“Fun?” Tylora asked, her eyes widening, “I don’t find running for my life through dense woodlands and stinking swamps…alone…fun.”

“That was a slight…miscalculation, this time I have it covered.”

“You said that last time,”

“I did?”

“Verbatim,” Tylora said.

“Ty, how can I convince you?”

“That is a puzzle, good luck solving it,” Tylora said, “I myself have other things to do, so if you’ll excuse me…” Tylora added, well aware of Vaz’s ability to manipulate her.

“Ty, it’s me, your oldest friend,” Vaz said, blocking her path.

“Exactly, anyone else I’d have heard out first.”

“You wound me.”

“If only I could,” Tylora said.

“That hurts,”

“Enough to get out of my way?”

“No.” Vaz admitted, “I can appreciate you still hold some resentments after the last time.”

“Jolly decent of you, considering you deserted me as soon as a clearing was wide enough for you to transform.”

“You’re an immortal, you were in no danger.”

“Last I checked Dragon’s have little to fear either,” Tylora said.

“It was reflexive,” Vaz said, “this time I promise, no matter what I’ll not leave you, I need your help, after last time do you really think I’d risk facing you if I didn’t’?”

Tylora sighed, knowing full well she would regret this, “okay, let’s hear it. I give no guarantees I’ll help.”

“Thanks Ty, that’s all I wanted,” Vaz said, a sly smile on his lips.

(word count: 299)