Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
We plod along on the highway, taking breaks every now and then. The sun’s ridiculously hot and so we pause for water at a few gas stations. As the afternoon wears on, we run out of gas stations, too, and so I have to resort to drinking some questionable water that Zohr thoughtfully boils for me. It’s not exactly tasty, but I know it’s way worse to get dehydrated, so I drink it anyhow.
I’m starting to despair that we’re never going to find anything useful when we head down one car-covered exit ramp and find not only a nearby corner store, but we find a bookstore complete with dine-in cafe.
“Jackpot,” I murmur to myself, and reach out to pet Zohr’s scales. Then I feel weird, because why am I petting him? He’s not a dog.
You touch me because you are happy. I can accept that. His thoughts are amused. Where first?
“Store, I think. We can spend the night in the bookstore cafe.” I glance up at the skies. It’s starting to get dark and my ass is sore from riding on his back all day long. I’m more than ready to stop, but safety is number one. “Smell anyone nearby?”
He raises his massive head, and I have to hold on to his neck so I don’t slide off his shoulders. I wait for his verdict, and I’m relieved when he tells me, No new scents. If humans have been through here, it has been many days.
“Awesome. We’re not staying that long.”
I do smell these. He sends me a mental image—rats. Literally. Lots of them.
I wrinkle my nose. One of the apartments at our old building had rats, and that’s probably how he knew the scent. On one hand, it’s a good thing, I suppose. That means there are foodstuffs—or were—in the area. On the other hand…rats. Yick. “Gross but harmless,” I tell him. “We’ll still stay here tonight.”
Very well. He lowers his shoulder, and I slide off, then stagger around, walking out the kinks in my muscles. I haven’t sat so long in ages, and my butt and thighs hurt. I feel stiff all over, but I have to admit we covered a lot of ground.
He nuzzles me. Be fast and we will go hunting. There are deer nearby.
Hunting? “With me on your back?” I get a mental image of me bouncing on his scales, bruising up my backside, only to fall off when he lunges. I pat the big nose that he shoves in my face, ignoring his hot breath. “How about you go hunting without me? If there are no humans around, I’ll be fine.”
His thoughts grow dark, possessive. I do not want us to separate. I must protect you.
“From what? Rats?” He pushes his nose against my hand—kind of funny and cute, given that I could lose my entire fist in one big nostril. But he’s rubbing up against me like my tiny hand is going to give him all the happiness he could ever want. It’s sweet. “I’m serious, Zohr. You can leave for a bit. If there’s no one in the area, I’ll be fine.”
Truth be told, I could use a minute to breathe and gather my thoughts without him around. It’s not that I don’t want him here beside me, it’s that I’m not used to being constantly accompanied. I kind of want a moment alone to just…relax. To not feel like I have to focus on another person—or dragon—nearby. Being alone gives you a peaceful sort of quiet in your soul, and it’s been a while since I’ve had that quiet.
Zohr lifts his nose and nuzzles my hair. I understand. I will go, but only for a short time, and only to feed. I will be back promptly.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him. “And I have weapons. I swear I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”
His thoughts don’t seem entirely pleased, but he nudges me one last time and then heads off. I can tell from his thinking that he’s switching to a hunting mentality, sinking into a gray area of instinct. Here, he’s ruled by the breeze and the scents it carries. Deer are nearby, and he locks on to that, his perception narrowing. He lumbers off, his tail swishing as if he’s a cat in search of a mouse. I watch him go, waiting in the streets as his enormous golden form disappears between buildings and all that I have of Zohr is his thoughts drifting through mine.
His focus is not entirely off of me, of course. Just like I get a faint thread of his hunting thoughts, I also get the occasional flick of his mind as he reaches out to me, as if he needs to reassure himself that I’m here and I’m fine. I send a comforting mental nudge back just to reassure him.