at the food on her plate. "Guess we'll be on the run until we can clear our names--which, under the circumstances, doesn't seem very likely." She paused with a forkful poised before her lips. "What is this anyway?
Fish?"
"Um, that's part of the problem," Trag said. "Hidar used to do all the cooking--I've
only recently started doing it myself--and there's some stuff in the stasis unit I'm not sure about. I thought it might be Kreater beast, but--"
"If it's Kreater beast, then it's okay," Windura said soothingly. "This is what it's supposed to taste like."
"Yes, but what if it isn't?" Micayla said, still scrutinizing the bit of meat on her fork.
"I guess outlaws like us can't be too choosy," Trag said with a shrug. He appeared nonchalant, but something in his tone of voice told Micayla that it had been the wrong subject to broach--maybe even worse than hissing at him. Then his expression clouded and she was sure of it. Way to go, Micayla.
"Hasn't killed us yet!" Rodan said cheerfully. Downing the last bit on his plate with gusto, he upended his bottle of ale, draining the contents before letting out a satisfied belch.
"I'm not sure you're the best one to judge, Rodan," Windura said. "Something tells me it would take more than rotten Kreater beast to kill you."
"He actually likes Hidar's cooking," Trag whispered to her, "if that tells you anything. It's nearly killed me several times."
"Well, I don't think this would kill anyone," Micayla said. "But I certainly wouldn't kill for it."
Trag's eyes darkened ominously. "I'd like to see you try figuring out what all that shit is," he snarled. "Maybe if you go rub Hidar's wings he'd tell you."
"I'd rather not," Micayla shot back.
"Well then lay off, Ice Queen."
Micayla knew she'd hurt his feelings, but the attack hardly seemed warranted. "Ice Queen?" she echoed indignantly. "And just what do you mean by that?"
"That you're cold as ice?" Trag suggested. "The kind of girl who can make men's dicks shrivel up with one glance--or should I say, one hiss?"
Micayla stared at him in disbelief. All she'd done was question the menu--and
even he'd admitted he wasn't sure what it was. It shouldn't have been enough to set him off, unless he was a whole lot more sensitive than any other man she'd ever met. Without warning, her temper flared. "Well, you can just keep your shriveled-up cock to yourself, Trag," she spat out. "I don't want it!"
"Yeah, well, maybe I will--Mick," Trag said with a sneer. Pushing away from the table, he left without another word. Rodan followed in his wake, though somewhat
sheepishly, Micayla thought. Perhaps Rodan would think twice about pursuing her if the shriveling effect was widespread.
"Guess it's up to us to do the dishes," Windura observed, "seeing as how you've managed to run the guys off." With an exasperated shake of her head, she went on, "What is it with you two? One minute you seem to be getting along fine and then, wham! You're at each other's throats!"
"Guess I made him mad when I asked about the food," Micayla muttered. "It was all downhill after that."
"You could be a little nicer to him, you know," Windura chided. "I mean, I could understand if you couldn't stand the sight of him, but--"
"That's just it," Micayla moaned. "I can't stand the sight of him!"
"He's even more gorgeous than you are," Windura said frankly. "What's the
matter? Are you jealous?"
"No," she insisted. "I'm not! I just, well, all I have to do is look at him and I want to bite him or at least snarl at him. It's all I can do to control it. It's very strange."
"That is weird," Windura agreed. "Glad you can keep from biting him, though.
With those fangs of yours, you'd probably have him bleeding to death with one bite. Of course, that would give me an excuse to baby him a little."
Micayla's eyes widened. "You want to baby him?"
"The truth?" Windura stood up and faced Micayla squarely. "I'd like to do just about anything with him. I'm not picky. I'd take
Fish?"
"Um, that's part of the problem," Trag said. "Hidar used to do all the cooking--I've
only recently started doing it myself--and there's some stuff in the stasis unit I'm not sure about. I thought it might be Kreater beast, but--"
"If it's Kreater beast, then it's okay," Windura said soothingly. "This is what it's supposed to taste like."
"Yes, but what if it isn't?" Micayla said, still scrutinizing the bit of meat on her fork.
"I guess outlaws like us can't be too choosy," Trag said with a shrug. He appeared nonchalant, but something in his tone of voice told Micayla that it had been the wrong subject to broach--maybe even worse than hissing at him. Then his expression clouded and she was sure of it. Way to go, Micayla.
"Hasn't killed us yet!" Rodan said cheerfully. Downing the last bit on his plate with gusto, he upended his bottle of ale, draining the contents before letting out a satisfied belch.
"I'm not sure you're the best one to judge, Rodan," Windura said. "Something tells me it would take more than rotten Kreater beast to kill you."
"He actually likes Hidar's cooking," Trag whispered to her, "if that tells you anything. It's nearly killed me several times."
"Well, I don't think this would kill anyone," Micayla said. "But I certainly wouldn't kill for it."
Trag's eyes darkened ominously. "I'd like to see you try figuring out what all that shit is," he snarled. "Maybe if you go rub Hidar's wings he'd tell you."
"I'd rather not," Micayla shot back.
"Well then lay off, Ice Queen."
Micayla knew she'd hurt his feelings, but the attack hardly seemed warranted. "Ice Queen?" she echoed indignantly. "And just what do you mean by that?"
"That you're cold as ice?" Trag suggested. "The kind of girl who can make men's dicks shrivel up with one glance--or should I say, one hiss?"
Micayla stared at him in disbelief. All she'd done was question the menu--and
even he'd admitted he wasn't sure what it was. It shouldn't have been enough to set him off, unless he was a whole lot more sensitive than any other man she'd ever met. Without warning, her temper flared. "Well, you can just keep your shriveled-up cock to yourself, Trag," she spat out. "I don't want it!"
"Yeah, well, maybe I will--Mick," Trag said with a sneer. Pushing away from the table, he left without another word. Rodan followed in his wake, though somewhat
sheepishly, Micayla thought. Perhaps Rodan would think twice about pursuing her if the shriveling effect was widespread.
"Guess it's up to us to do the dishes," Windura observed, "seeing as how you've managed to run the guys off." With an exasperated shake of her head, she went on, "What is it with you two? One minute you seem to be getting along fine and then, wham! You're at each other's throats!"
"Guess I made him mad when I asked about the food," Micayla muttered. "It was all downhill after that."
"You could be a little nicer to him, you know," Windura chided. "I mean, I could understand if you couldn't stand the sight of him, but--"
"That's just it," Micayla moaned. "I can't stand the sight of him!"
"He's even more gorgeous than you are," Windura said frankly. "What's the
matter? Are you jealous?"
"No," she insisted. "I'm not! I just, well, all I have to do is look at him and I want to bite him or at least snarl at him. It's all I can do to control it. It's very strange."
"That is weird," Windura agreed. "Glad you can keep from biting him, though.
With those fangs of yours, you'd probably have him bleeding to death with one bite. Of course, that would give me an excuse to baby him a little."
Micayla's eyes widened. "You want to baby him?"
"The truth?" Windura stood up and faced Micayla squarely. "I'd like to do just about anything with him. I'm not picky. I'd take
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