The Haunted Traveler Vol. 1 Issue 1

63
Both Drak’s know that the possibility is dubious at best,
impossible in reality. Brikongi and Gurithinki overseers are
among the best hunters in all of Hathid, and escaped slaves
only remain that way if Lord Yig is smiling on them.
Are You smiling, my dear companion?
Pofiri looks back to her, the disbelief obvious in his face.
“Tiri, you do realize that without him, I would never have
been free, you would be shackled in Grokti’s harem right
now, and neither of us would ever have found each other? Did
it ever occur to you that were it not for him, all of our worst
dreams would be lived right now because you attacked that
slovenly bastard?!” His voice grew loud, even ferocious, as his
anxiety fueled useless anger against his mate, whose leg was
gradually gripped as the pointless emotion rose. Her scales
crunched audibly under pressure, the tips of Pofiri’s talons
grazing against the weak flesh underneath.
The growing hurt in Tiri’s spirit and leg has her pulling
away from her mate, fearful of further punishment. But her
retreat is only halted by a low growl as Pofiri pulls on her
more, resulting in his talons, needlepoint sharp and malicious,
to pierce into her flesh like a knife through ground
meat. “You probably don’t realize this, but when a friend is
lost on the road, it is a dishonor to his clan and to the Tribe to
leave him alone in the wastes,” Pofiri rants fanatically. If the
warrior is anything, it’s loyal, especially to those who prove
themselves as worthy of their roomookt in the field of battle.
“I am not just speaking of honor to the dead, though. We are
entitled to each other as scalemates and brothers. I will not
leave Talri to his fate if I have anything to say about it.”
Tiri silently listens, her head bowed and her tongue silent,
as she waits for her mate to calm down enough for her to
apologize. But the apology would never come as olive greens
shoot up at Pofiri in shock of the proclamation he makes.
“That is why I am going back out and finding him. You are