Talos and Cyrus

Chapter 17 - Pen Kurth

The two camped less than a league from the coastal town, using the dense forest surrounding Pen Kurth as a reliable shelter. They sat there as the sun began to began to fall, Cyrus fiddling with the two silver half-crowns he had left with him. They were barely enough to buy a proper meal. He sat with his back against Talos, moving back and forth every time the dragon took a breath.

"Are you certain you won't be too hungry before the morning?" Cyrus asked, stuffing the two precious coins into his leather satchel. Talos let out a short groan.

"I will make it," he growled lightly. "My stomach is far from empty and we are, according to your map, closer than ever to Paelford."

Cyrus rested his head against the dragon's leg, staring up at the hazy sky. What he wouldn't give to see how his family was faring at that moment. He hoped they were doing much better without him.

"Do you miss home?" Cyrus asked, playing with a thick blade of grass. It glided past his fingertips with ease. Against him, Talos let out a sigh and rested his head on the ground by their makeshift fire pit, watching as the tiny flames fought to grow higher.

"No," he grumbled after a moment. "Drak is not my home. Not anymore. In fact... it never was." The dragon's voice died away and he closed his amber eyes slowly.

Cyrus knew better than to press on. There the two sat, comforted by the presence of the other's company, until sleep finally whisked them away. All was quiet.

Cyrus was the first to wake the next morning. As he opened his eyes to the new morning light, he saw far off smoking rising from the tree tops and he leapt to his feet in excitement. No doubt it was smoke from Pen Kurth; shopkeepers and merchants were most likely opening their doors at that moment. He leapt to his feet, stomping on the glowing embers of last night's fire and collecting his leather satchel in one hand.

Behind Cyrus, Talos moaned as he was wrenched from his sleep and rolled over onto his side, swatting at his face with a huge yellow foot.

"Must you rise so suddenly?" he growled, irritation dripping from his tongue. Cyrus hardly noticed.

"Get up, Talos! I'm planning to leave this town behind us before noon. We best get moving. Do you remember our plan?"

The dragon moaned again and got to his feet, his wings falling aimlessly at his sides.

"How could I forget?" he quipped. "I'll hide amongst the trees, surely staying out of sight, while you take your time and buy whatever tickles your fancy."

The dragon was no doubt annoyed by his far from peaceful awakening. Cyrus rolled his eyes and brushed passed his companion, heading in the direction of the smoke.

"Don't fall too far behind!" he called over his shoulder.

There was an incomprehensible muttering as the dragon shook the sleep from his head and stretched his tired joints.

"What was that, Talos?" Cyrus asked, not bothering to look back. Talos snorted.

"Nothing to your concern. I'm right behind you."

Although the dragon couldn't see it, Cyrus let a sly smirk creep along his face.

* * *

The two parted ways as soon as the trees grew thicker and the light seeping through their branches barely hit the ground below. Talos seemed reluctant to leave Cyrus wandering about in an unknown environment.

"Let's try not to encounter anymore six-eyed wolves or strange masked people riding on the backs of black snakes... if you can help it." the dragon teased, eyeing the woods surrounding them with uncertainty. "I'll make sure to mark the trees again."