Chapter 20-2

The big griffon cheeped a quiet acknowledgment as he settled back down. Almonihah slowly looked him over. 

“Looks like th' priest did a good job,” he grudgingly admitted. 

Zakhin'Dakh nodded his head slightly in agreement. The huge wounds the dragon's claws had torn in his wings and forequarters were nearly completely healed, and there was no sign of the broken bones that had troubled him. 

Just tired, the griffon softly screeched. 

“Yeah,” Almonihah agreed. “Guess this much healing's tiring even with magic.”

Zakhin'Dakh inclined his head in agreement. Almonihah walked over and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. They stood in silence for a while.

Sorry... for almost getting you killed, the half-dragon whispered to his big friend.

Zakhin'Dakh shook his head in wordless disagreement.

They spent most of the day together recuperating. The priest of Mashano and his acolytes checked on them occasionally, and the innkeeper prepared some hearty meals for Almonihah (the town elders brought a cow for Zakhin'Dakh, and had a small ceremony of gratitude for the pair), but most of the time, they rested and talked. Almonihah noted that the griffon's Great Eagle was getting more coherent quite quickly—as quick as his had, if not quicker. 

By the next day, both of them were restless. Almonihah, with Zakhin'Dakh following, decided to go out to where they had killed the dragon, and managed to convince the guard captain to send a couple guards with him by mentioning that he would look for the dragon's lair... and hoard. He stopped on the way to cut some large pieces out of the dragon's hide, spoke with Zakhin'Dakh, and then tied them to his back. He had some ideas for how it could be used...

The dragon's lair was in a cave in the hill it had emerged from, and it did, indeed, have a sizable hoard. Almonihah took a fair-sized cut for himself and Zakhin'Dakh, and then the pair of guards loaded the rest up, and they returned to town. 

They returned that evening to find that the townspeople had put together a feast in honor of the dragon-slayer and his griffon. Almonihah was already getting rather sick of everything, so when the town elder at the head of the table asked him to speak, he knew just what to say.

“Thanks for th' last couple days,” he started, “But Zakhin'Dakh 'nd I have t' leave tonight.”

A wave of startled murmurs rippled across the crowd. Almonihah paused for only a moment.

“Make sure t' share that hoard with anyone else that's been hit by that dragon. Don't think it's just attacked you.”

And with that, he walked over to Zakhin'Dakh. After a moment of stunned disbelief, several people started urging the pair to stay for at least one night, but Almonihah was done with being in town. They went far enough that night to put the town's stockade out of sight before setting up camp in the moonlight.

*****

You notice how Almonihah doesn't remember most of the people's names? I'm kind of surprised he remembered the kid's name, to be frank. And yes, he doesn't like to hang around for parties.