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   Chapter 58 No.58

The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 5851

Updated: 2018-01-19 19:02

"You've something to learn in the way of table manners, " Myranda said.

She looked at the odd scattering of leftovers from the primal meal. As disgusted as Myranda was at the spectacle of the creature eating, it had not been enough to make her forget that she hadn't eaten the day before. She smirked. In the past it was not at all uncommon for her to skip a day or two between meals. The opportunities to eat were often few and far between. Her time in this rather austere place of learning had managed to spoil her nonetheless, as she had become accustomed to the luxury of a daily meal.

The smile faded from her face as she turned her eyes to the south. It had taken the hours from noon to nightfall to find this place, and that was on a good night's sleep and with fear speeding her stride. The return trip would take twice as long, even ignoring the thick blanket of fresh snow.

The hungry girl's gaze turned to the leftovers beside Myn once more. Among the mangled feathers and other debris was a shred of meat. Myranda plucked it from the snow and, in a decision motivated more by hunger than good sense, deemed the sorry morsel edible. By the time she had stripped away the feathers and other less than appetizing parts from the meat, it was barely enough to fill her palm. She skewered it on a pine bough and held it over the fire. Myn watched her friend with her usual curiosity before disappearing into the woods once more.

"Don't stray too far, " she said more to herself than the dragon. "After this mouthful is savored we need to head back to Wolloff's."

With a bit of time to spare while the meat heated, she let her mind wander. The spell she'd managed to cast had muddied her thoughts more than a night collapsed in freezin

Her legs were the things most affected by the long cold night and did not serve her quite as well as she would have liked. She nearly fell to the ground twice while kicking snow onto the fire to extinguish it. As a result, she had to stick to traveling where the snow was thinnest, taking wide circles around the now-towering drifts that the blizzard had dumped into her return path. Luckily, the snow was thick and heavy, with only the top few inches thin enough to sink into. Otherwise, even the shallow valleys between drifts would swallow her up to her waist. After a few minutes of walking, her legs finally seemed to remember how to handle the snow, and walking became less of a conscious affair. It only then that she noticed how Myn was acting.

The usually jovial beast seemed more and more spiritless with each passing moment. Her tail, normally alive with twisting and curling, hung down behind her, dragging a faint line in the snow. Every few steps she would draw in a long, slow breath through her nose and look about longingly. Myranda grew concerned. Myn had never acted this way before. For all appearances, she seemed to miss someone. But who?

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