Deilia ate dinner quickly, wolfing down her mother's pie as she fidgeted subconsciously. She would gulp down several bites of food, then check the progress of the setting sun every few minutes. Sparit kicked her footpaw under the table as Chawna looked at her daughter curiously. "My, but aren't you hungry, dear! What have you been doing, starving yourself?"

Deilia smiled in a preoccupied manner. "Of course not, mother. I just…really like your food. It's delicious."

Chawna wasn't fooled, and she knew something was amiss. However, she simply nodded. "Well, growing beasts often have large appetites. Have some more pie, Deilia, and you too, Spar."

Sparit cut himself another slice, but Deilia refused politely. "Actually, mum, I'm going to visit some friends at the barracks for a while, alright? Some of them have gotten wind that it's my birthday, so they're planning a party for me."

"How nice of them," replied Chawna, smiling. "Go ahead, but no heavy drinking, no gambling, and you must be back by dark."

"All my friends' parents let them drink and gamble. Why can't I do all that stuff?" complained Sparit, but Deilia nodded at her mother's words and hopped up, wiping her paws.

"Of course, mother! I'll stick to your rules, and if you find out I've broken them, you can whack me with that nice mace you keep in your bedroom," she said, grinning.

Chawna smiled as her daughter exited, and then turned to frown upon her son, who was drinking his watered-down grog distastefully. "Do you really want to become a drunken gambler, like most of your friends will turn out to be, Sparit Flaizclaw?"

Sparit scowled. "I wouldn't become a drunken gambler, mother! I'm not that thick! I just hate sitting there, watching my friends play Three Shell and Black Stick while I have to sit there, watching them! Hellsteeth, and why can't I drink real grog and beer? I know beasts younger than me who're drinking!"

"Watch your language, Sparit," said Chawna sharply. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I'm going to drive this into you, once and for all. You are not allowed to gamble because it's addictive and most likely, you'll end up losing all your nice possessions instead of gaining anything at all. You are not permitted to drink because drinking becomes an addictive habit as well, and you'll discover yourself spending loads of jewels and gold for kegs of the stuff. Plus, it'll put you out of shape as well. So, there you have it, young fox!"

Sparit scowled again. "But mother…!" he began again, but Chawna cut him off.

"Really, my word is final, Sparit! You've been a bit rebellious as of late! Why don't I get this kind of trouble from your sister? You can behave just as well as she does, if you'd just try!" she snapped, taking up the plates a bit forcefully.

Sparit watched his mother stride out of them room, headed toward the kitchens. "Hah, perfect Deilia," he sneered. "Wouldn't Mother like to know where her perfect daughter is now? Not at a birthday party, I'll wager!"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Deilia hurried out of the house, taking a few cautious looks behind her before sprinting off toward the beach, which was a decent walk away. After a few minutes, she spotted the oddly shaped Hook's Boulder, and next to it, Dragonflame.

"Oy, over here!" he called, waving, and Deilia jogged over to meet up with him. "You look stunning, like always!" he offered gushingly.

Deilia smiled in an embarrassed manner, and there was a small awkward silence. "Ah…thanks," said Deilia finally, and Dragonflame beamed.

"I brought you the flowers, see?" he said, presenting a large bouquet of orchids and azaleas to her. "They're from my mum's garden, home grown. Do you like them?"

"You shouldn't have!" said Deilia, accepting them uncomfortably. "But I hope your mum doesn't get mad at you for chopping down her flowers."

"Ah, she won't mind," said Dragonflame with a wave of his paw. "And what can she do about it anyways? Spank me? I'd like to see her try!" he sneered.

Deilia frowned upon this lack of respect, but said nothing. He offered her his paw, and they began a steady stroll across the beach, the sun setting in the distance like a bright red orb.

"I would have brought you strawberry creams too, but my mum didn't feel like making them," he said apologetically. "I'll have you come over sometime though, so you can try some. They're wonderful."

"I bet they are," agreed Deilia. There was another awkward pause until Deilia asked, "So, are you planning on entering Lord Tazzur's army as a corsair or an army soldier?"

Dragonflame grinned at her. "As a corsair of course! I have twice as much fun at sea than I do on land! Have you ever been out at sea?" he asked.

Deilia shook her head. "I've been around the docks and sea ports a lot, but I haven't ever sailed out into open waters. I've heard it's beautiful."

"Yeah," admitted Dragonflame. "It is, but that's not how it's so great. It's the openness, the feeling of freedom that makes it so awesome! I'll have to take you out to sea one day; you'd love it."

Deilia frowned. Dragonflame was speaking as if they'd be together for a long time—as if they'd be mates one day. "Look, Dragonflame, I want to say—," she started, but Dragonflame took her paw and began pulling her toward the ocean.

"Come on, let's ride some waves!" he barked, jumping into the cool seawater. He splashed her as she stepped into the water cautiously, wary of snappy crabs or lobsters. The two waded in the water leisurely, enjoying the favorable water temperature. Deilia dived under the water, practicing her diving strokes for a few minutes. When she returned to the surface, she discovered Dragonflame was gone.

"Dragon?" she asked tentatively. "Dragonflame?"

Suddenly, something seized one of her footpaws, and she was pulled under. The thing let so equally quickly, and she thrust her head out of the water, sputtering. "Dragon!" she choked, coughing up water. Glancing up and blinking, she saw Dragonflame laughing heartily a few feet away from her.

"Gotcha there, Deilia!" he teased, splashing her again. "Nyah, you can't catch me!"

"Oh yeah?" challenged Deilia. "You're asking for it!"

She kicked the water with a footpaw, splashing Dragonflame in the face. Giggling, she struck her paws in the water again, so that Dragonflame recoiled slightly, rubbing water from his eyes. As he was spitting out the salty taste from his mouth, she swam behind him and yanked his tail. Dragonflame hopped up, stumbling in the water, barking with laughter.

"Watch it, watch it!" he yelled playfully. "This tail is my pride and joy here, so make sure you don't pull out any fur!"

Laughing they waded back to the warm sand, where they lay down and basked in the final rays of the sun. Deilia actually began to feel a slight attraction to the foolhardy fox beside her when he stopped playing with her ear and spoke.

"What's that?"

"What?" she asked, looking up at him. "What's what?"

"That," he repeated, stroking her footpaw. "Like a funny little half moon on your paw. Like a new crescent moon," he repeated. "Kinda cute."

Deilia scrambled up hastily. "It's nothing! Forget about it!" she snapped, suddenly annoyed and worried. "Just a silly birthmark!"

Dragonflame was taken aback. "Cool it, Deilia. Why're you getting so fired up about a birthmark. I still like you just as much, even though it's a little weird…."

"Forget about it, okay!" hissed Deilia shrilly.

"I don't mind a birthmark, I still like you a lot," repeated Dragonflame doggedly.

"I don't care if you like me or not! I don't even like you! Can't you take a hint?" she snapped, then wished she hadn't said it as Dragonflame's lower lip began to tremble.

"Look, Dragon, I didn't mean to say that…" she began, but Dragonflame stood up, his face hard.

"Forget it then. If you don't like me, then why'd you agree to go out with me?" he demanded. "Why?"

"I like you, Dragonflame," she said miserably. "Just not…like that."

"Well, you acted like you liked me!" he snarled. "And you accepted my flowers, and played in the water with me, and then when I see some stupid birthmark, you explode. What's with that?"

"Please, you don't understand," whispered Deilia. "I do like you, Dragonflame…you're one of my best friends and maybe, one day, we could be more than that, but not now. Just please, please, don't' tell anyone what you saw today. Don't ever tell anyone about that birthmark, Dragonflame."

"Well, guess what? I don't really think I want to be more than 'just friends' anymore. In fact, I don't even think I want to be your friend anymore. You pretend you like me, and then just reject me later? You catty little vixen!" he spat. "I won't tell anyone about that birthmark though, if you don't want me to. I'm not a liar, like you."

"I didn't lie!" pleaded Deilia. "I'm really sorry, Dragonflame. Really, really sorry."

"Forget it," spat Dragonflame again, calming down a little. "Just go home. I'm not sorry I yelled, but I am sorry I'm such a fool."

Deilia padded away, tears running down her face as she scurried back her, sniffing. Dragonflame stood on the beach, watching her go with an expression of pain, anger, and disgust. Then, swearing violently, he made his way toward the bar for a drink.

As Deilia's home came into view, she scrubbed her face with the back of her paw, hoping that she didn't look like she'd cried. Opening the front door tentatively, she was glad to find that her mother was already in bed, and Sparit was sitting up, practicing dagger throwing with a small target pinned to the wall.

"You've been crying," noticed Sparit wisely. "What happened?"

"Is Mother--?"

"Asleep, yes. Now, what happened? He didn't hurt you, did he?" he demanded. "Because if he did, I'll break his nose for you."

"I could break his nose myself, if I wanted," sniffed Deilia sadly. "But we did get in a fight."

"Over what?" asked Sparit, smirking. "Did you tell 'im you didn't like his ickle strawberwee cweams?" he teased.

"He saw that birthmark mum told me to keep hidden. We were playing in the water, and I completely forgot about it, and…he saw it. He even said something about it!" she said wildly. "I don't know what to do about it, Spar!"

Sparit was stunned. His mother had always cautioned his sister to keep the strange birthmark hidden, under all circumstances. Finding his voice, he asked slowly, "Has Mother ever told you why you can't show anyone that birthmark thing?"

"Never!" said Deilia hopelessly, collapsing into a chair. "She's never said anything about it except that I can't show it to anybody!"

Sparit was quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. "Go tell Mother about this, Deilia."

"What!" exclaimed Deilia, flabbergasted. "Mum'll flay me dead! I lied to her—I said I was going to go to a party! And then, she's always warned me against playing in the water with friends—and I disobeyed her again! She's going to kill me," she moaned.

"Mum must have a good reason to why she wants that birthmark hidden," hissed Sparit. "Otherwise, she wouldn't get so upset every time she sees that it's not completely hidden."

"I can't tell her," retorted Deilia. "Besides, Dragonflame promised he wouldn't tell anyone about it!"

"And do you think he'll keep to that promise, Deilia? Dragonflame the bigmouth, Dragonflame the chatterbox, Dragonflame the revenge-seeker? He'll tell the first person that asks him!"

Deilia wiped her eyes again. "So he'll tell?" she whispered.

"Aye, he'll tell soon enough," replied Sparit, taking his sister's paw reassuringly. "Go on, you better go tell mum. She'll tell you what you can do about it."

When they entered Chawna's bedroom, they saw that she wasn't really asleep, merely weaving a red scarf through her fingers sadly. When she saw her two children enter, she started, dropping the scarf and sitting up.

"What's this?" she asked, motioning them to come in and close the door. "Deilia, have you been crying? What's wrong?" she demanded in a motherly voice.

"Mum, remember when I said I was going to a party? Well, really I went down for a walk with Dragonflame, that fox you hate, you know him," said Deilia wearily. "Well, we were on the beach, and we played in the water a bit…"

Chawna had turned pale, guessing what was to come. "Oh dear, Fangs of Fire!" she said. "What next?"

"We got back on the beach, and then he saw my birthmark, mum. He touched it, and he said something about it…. and we had a fight over it, too. He said he wouldn't tell anyone about it, but Sparit says he will…" she trailed miserably.

"Oh, Fangs of Fire!" Chawna repeated, clutching the bedpost. "Where is this Dragonflame now? Do you think we still have time to kill him before he tells anyone?"

"Kill him?" repeated Sparit incredulously. "Is it that bad?"

"If you don't kill him, Deilia will be killed in turn, and perhaps us too, my son! Do you know where Dragonflame is?" she hissed.

Deilia shook her head, frightened. "When I left, he was still on the beach, but he always sleeps in the barracks now, so that's probably where he's gone…"

"The barracks—too public, too full!" murmured Chawna, worried. "But we can check if he's still on the beach…yes."

She slid out of her bed, hurrying to the kitchen. Seizing two burlap sacks, she began tossing an assortment of dried fruits, dried fish, nuts, and several loaves of bread into them. Filling both, she thrust one apiece into the hands of her two bewildered offspring, and ran back to her bedroom. She returned abruptly, tossing two traveling cloaks, a blanket, and a fishing rod to them also. "Do you have your weapons, my dears?" she whispered.

"Of course, but what's going on?" cried Sparit, but his mother shushed him quickly.

"We're going to see if Dragonflame's still on the beach. If he is, we can kill him, dispose of his body, and then return back here, safe and sound. If he's not there, you two are going to escape."

"Escape?" repeated Sparit faintly. "But why—how? What is going on?" he demanded.

"I'll explain as we go," said Chawna, ushering them out of the house. "But try not to make too much noise, and put on those cloaks."

They did as then were bidden, and followed their mother out of the cozy house at a trot.

Chawna said nothing as they made their way to the coastline at a brisk half-walk, half-jog. The silence continued all the way until their feet touched the warmth of the sand, their eyes scanning for a glimpse of Dragonflame. He was no longer on the beach.

Chawna took in a sharp breath, craning her neck so that she could scan the majority of the beach. "He's not here, is he?"

Sparit shook his head, and Chawna took both his paw and Deilia's. "Follow me," she said, her voice sounding numb and scared. They followed her without protest or question of any kind, both confused and alarmed.

Sparit and Deilia ran across the beach, the sand slipping beneath their paws as they struggled to keep up with the extremely fleet-footed Chawna. Both of them were clutching heavy stitches in their sides, gasping for breath, when Chawna stopped, looking around furtively. The area was deserted, all save for a small rocky cave near the edge of the water. She motioned them toward it.

They climbed inside the cave, which was dark and reeked of stale water. They continued walking into the cave, water and mud squelching under their footpaws, until Chawna thrust out an arm, catching her son heavily in the chest. Deilia and Sparit both looked out at the foggy shape in front of them, squinting, trying to see what their mother already knew was there.

It was a boat.