Eragon, I dare you to ask Iorúnn to dance with you.
Or what, Saphira? Or what?
Or I'll take you between my claws and lick you from head to foot.
Alright, alright, you got me there! Eragon grumbled.
The rider walked up to the dwarf chief, blushing vividly. "May I have this dance?" he stammered, wishing he could sink into the ground.
A cat-like smile spread across her face. "Certainly," she said, voice smooth as silk. Some of other dwarf maidens tittered. "It would be my pleasure." She was wearing a dress striped and patterned like a tiger's pelt and a pearl necklace to go with it.
And he led the way to the dance floor.