Behind me, Vyrathion arrives and immediately becomes suspicious. "What? Something trying to eat you?"
I glance over my shoulder. “Not right now, for some reason. But look at this place.” I reach up and brush my fingers against one of the flowers. It sways gently overhead.
“It’s a part of the jungle,” the dragon sighs. “Just as muddy and humid as everywhere else.”
“Yes, but this place smells better.” The grove is peaceful. The river sounds distant. Nothing appears to be trying to kill us.
And suddenly, without warning, I remember waking up alone in the shelter. The memory doesn't hurt as much as it did last night. Mostly because he's here.
I lower my hand and look back at him. "Vyrathion."
His eyes flash in silver. "What?"
For a moment I consider letting it go. Then I decide not to. "I'm glad you came back."
Something flickers across his expression. The silence that follows lasts a little too long. His gaze drifts toward the trees, then toward the river beyond them, as though the answer might be written somewhere in the landscape.
Finally he folds his arms. "Even a terrible servant is better than none. And someone had to eat that meat I found.”
I grin. I think that’s the best I can get from him right now.
The strange thing is that the lack of immediate danger leaves room for other thoughts. For days I've been too busy surviving to pay much attention. Every thought has been about food, shelter, monsters, tribes or whatever fresh disaster Xren decided to throw at us. But now we're simply walking through a jungle together.
Which gives me time to notice things.
Ahead of me, Vyrathion ducks beneath a hanging branch and casually shoves aside a fallen trunk that would've taken three people to move. The motion pulls at the black skin stretched over his shoulders. Beneath it, the golden outline of scales catch a shaft of sunlight before disappearing again.
My thoughts immediately wander somewhere unhelpful.
Last night certainly doesn't help. I can still remember waking up beside him beneath the shelter roof. The warmth of him. The feeling of being safe for the first time in days. The intense climax. Every time I start thinking about it, my stomach does a weird little flip.
The grove turns out to be larger than it first appeared. Several trees have grown together over the years, their branches intertwining high overhead until they form a loose green canopy. Sunlight filters through the leaves in shifting shafts of gold. Large flowers hang from the upper branches, turning lazily whenever a breeze finds its way through the grove.
I stroll forward without any real destination in mind. For once there isn't an immediate problem demanding attention. No tribesmen. No river monster. No collapsing island. The absence of danger feels almost unfamiliar.
Then I stop and tilt my head upward. One of the trees spreads its branches low and wide, almost like a staircase. Above it, several neighboring crowns overlap, creating a tangled network of limbs stretching through the grove.
"Oh, I just had a great idea."
Behind me, Vyrathion immediately becomes suspicious. "Whenever you say that, my day worsens."
I point upward. "It's practically begging to be climbed."
His gaze follows mine. The expression that crosses his face suggests I've proposed something distasteful.
"It’s a tree," he says.
"I agree," I tell him. “Clearly a tree. Look how it branches out! And look, it has bark!”
He kicks at a root. "It grows from the ground."
I nod. "That is actually also pretty common for trees. I’m astonished you didn’t know."
"It’s showing every sign of belongingonthe ground. What you feel is begging you to climb it is only its nature. If asked, it would likely say that it would give a lot tonothave you climb it."
I laugh despite myself. "You're making that up."
He ignores me. "Now, you have already survived floods, monsters, starvation, tribal warfare and your own decision making. Why are you determined to add falling out of trees to that list?"
