Doing my best to console the broken hearted Misha, I glanced quickly over my shoulder at a nearby mound just as it gave a slight but visible shudder.

Holding the sad maiden I hummed a tune hoping it would calm her. It worked for a moment then she once again broke into sobs.

I felt the ground vibrate as must have Misha for she lifted her tear stained face just as a great shadow fell over us.

“What is this crying?” A whispering feminine voice asked.

“Oh my!” exclaimed Misha. Her tears forgotten, she huddled ever closer to me as she stared into the hovering face of my Dragon mount, Lyth.

“Please, Mister Dragon,” pleaded Misha. “Oh please, please, please, don’t eat us!”

“Do not fret Misha, dear.” I half laughed. “Lyth will not eat us. And dear one, Lyth is a Miss, not a Mister. She carries me where I must go and will only do harm to an enemy. It was your crying that woke her. She is very sensitive to a broken heart.”

Setting the girl-woman on her feet, I rose to my own, reached upwards and stroked the green muzzle of my steed. “Lyth,” I said, “meet Misha. Misha, this is Lyth.”

“Hello to you, Halfling.” said the dragon, as she lowered her head to Misha.

Misha gave a quick curtsy, her eyes never leaving the dragon’s as she said. “Hello Lyth, pleased to meet you.” Then slowly she reached out to lay a delicate hand on the dragon’s scaly jaw and whispered. “I hope we will be good friends.”

The mighty Dragon nodded her great head and half smiled, saying in her whispery voice. “Of course we will, my dear.”

Lyth winked at me. Her “Halfling” identification of Misha was not lost on me. The Dragoness again was confirming what I had been suspecting might be true.