Darvish was stripped to the waist, dripping sweat as he carried crates from one end of the cavern to the other. As much as he hated to admit it, the sweat was only half from his labor. He'd talked a glass of wine out of one of the kitchen women earlier, so he wasn't feeling quite as shaky, but... he still felt sick. And slightly ashamed of his behavior. These people had taken him in, when they could have kicked him out into the street, and still... he was acting like a child deprived of a toy.
But they didn't understand. He needed the wine. More than they could ever imagine.
He sighed as he moved down the corridor, then stopped as a boy almost collided with him. "Bugger the Nine, watch where you're going," he growled.
Luke bent over with his hands on his thighs, trying to catch his breath. "Dragon! There! Big gold dragon!" It had been sheer adrenaline that had gotten him this far but now that he'd stopped moving every one of his injuries started screaming at him for attention and he could feel places where half-healed cuts had opened up again and were seeping under his prison uniform. Sand from the hatching ground had stuck to the damnp spots on his front.
"I've been assured they don't hurt people," he said, finally taking the time to look at the boy--only a few years younger than Darvish himself, probably, but... he'd been considered legally adult in his culture for several long years. He was wearing strange clothes, even stranger than the ones the folk here wore. Those, at least, seemed naturally made. His garments... well, perhaps Darvish was just too used to silk, but... they seemed horribly unattractive, even for working clothes. He raised an eyebrow.
"What?! So it's perfectly natural for them to have red glowing eyes and start charging you?" Luke sat down heavily on the floor and clutched his side. He had no idea how far he'd run but looking around he didn't think a dragon that big could get through the narrow halls.
"Dragon?!?!?!" He was having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea.
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But they didn't understand. He needed the wine. More than they could ever imagine.
He sighed as he moved down the corridor, then stopped as a boy almost collided with him. "Bugger the Nine, watch where you're going," he growled.
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"Gotta get away!"
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"Dragon?!?!?!" He was having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea.
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