The Past

Bailong caught the sure scent of a forge, metal and heat.

“Let me walk.” Sevir said, and he let the man down in another frozen part, lent him a set of brown robes from his pouch and waited until he was clothed to wrap around his arm.

Bailong shuddered at the touch, the strength, the scent combined with the power he had witnessed. Qinglong snickered, “now you know how it feels.”

Bailong would have colored if he could have. He gave his brother the cold shoulder and rested his head on Sevir’s wideness. The steadiness was familiar. The scent, so close, so thick, evaporated all his worries for the moment.

His brother must have felt his bliss and his emotions of happiness and satisfaction. Slightly relieved, he didn’t call attention to them.

“RuIng?” Sevir called. Bailong felt his head title away. He asked, “found them?”