“She had a line with two gleaming silver fish strung on it. They were fat and flopping still. Sintara was not enamored of fish; she’d had far too many of them in her life. Still, they were food and fresh. “I made my own spear to get these for you,” Thymara said as she unfastened the first fish from the line threaded through its gills. “I didn’t have a spear point, but I hardened the wood in a fire, and it seemed to work very well.” “Commendable of you,” Sintara said, waiting. Thymara held the fi...rst one up and then asked suddenly, “What are you doing to me?” “I’m waiting for my fish,” the dragon pointed out acerbically. Thymara didn’t give it to her. “I’m changing faster than I ever have in my life. My skin itches with the scales. My back hurts all the time. Even my teeth feel sharper. Are you doing this to me?” “The fish,” Sintara insisted, and Thymara tossed the first one. Sintara caught it in her jaws, tossed it up, caught it again, and gulped it down.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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