As the rest of the group ready themselves to travel to the New Londo ruins, Sær attempts to fix the window.

Strangely enough, there were ripped pieces of paper speared by the glass shards. Had she thrown a book at patches? His eyes trail along the cliff, where bits of shredded paper lay, soggy from morning dew. Sær slides down the cliff, landing with a stumble and a curse. There, resting against a rock, it's pages fluttering in the wind, was a book.

Sær picks it up gingerly, and the book flops open to the hundredth page.

Your tail and you

When you get older, as your body starts to change you may notice your tail acting strangely. Our tails are a valuable way of communicating our 'feelings.' As you grow into a young dragoness, your tail will begin curling in on itself whenever you experience sexual attraction. It may happen when you look at a fire, another dragon, or even a particularly large lizard.

Sær stares at the diagrams before slowly flipping back to the beginning of the book.

There are numerous illustrations depicting various acts. Sær's mouth hangs open as he sits down and starts reading...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"How long does it take to fix a window? That sappy buffoon better not be slacking off." Vengarl frowns, suspicious of his friend's abscence.

Priscilla smiles apologetically. "Darling can be a layabout... He had fallen asleep three times within the first day of our meeting! Sometimes I wonder about that man..."

"I still say you're lucky," Rosabeth chimes in. "Sær's a talented warrior, and he's sturdy, to boot! Not to mention," she whispers conspiratorially, "He's dead sexy~!"

A vein bulges in Priscilla's temple, and the spare sword she was packing snaps in two from her grip. Rosabeth gulps. "Um... B-but don't worry about me! I already have my big, strong, Vengarl~," she coos mockingly, running a finger along his helm's snout.

"Feh! Even I have standar-"

Rosabeth tosses him into the air, punting him down the cliff. Grahame whistles.

"Gooooooaaaaaalllll!"

Rosabeth turns to Priscilla. "I-"

"Grrrrrrrrr-rurrrr!" Priscilla growls, baring her cute little fangs. Rosabeth squeaks.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sær, engrossed in his 'Crossbreed anatomy research,' failed to notice the body-less mercenary flying down the cliff.

Vengarl, engrossed in the act of plummeting down a cliff, failed to notice the handsome (in his opinion) macrophile.

Not that either of them could do much to prevent the impending blow to their respective craniums.

CRUH-CLSHNK

The two friends collide, a symphony of crunching bone and clanging steel echoing off the cliff.

Sær massages his damaged skull, taking a swig of estus and then offering some to Vengarl. He swallows it gratefully, neither man questioning where the liquid went.

"That stony bitch," Vengarl curses. "To be stuck with a teenaged pyromancer with a sadistic streak... What have I done to deserve this? Don't answer that, Sær!"

Sær slowly puts his hand down.

"What the hell are you doing down here, you lazy fool?!" Vengarl growls. "You know Priscilla gets agitated when you leave for more than an hour!"

"So do I!" Sær replies. "But this is important! Our wedding night is coming up and I-" his voice drops to a loud whisper. "I don't know what to do."

"Your age, and still a virgin? What the he-"

"I'm not a virgin! But girls like Priscilla are a special case. I..." He sighs. "What if... What if we can't...? Or if I'm too... O-or-"

"Enough. Just read your damn book and stop talking about it!"

By the time Sær has finished his 'research' and clambered up the cliff, Priscilla's tail is bruised from being wrung from stress.

The moment Sær's head pokes over the ledge, Priscilla lunges for him.

"GET OVER HERE!" She yells, her tail shooting out like a whip. Sær yelps as his arm is snatched and he is lifted bodily by the fluffy appendage. She grabs him and holds him aloft by his shoulders. "Do you have any idea how worried I was, you stupid man?! I nearly rubbed the fur off my tail, I was so worried! How did you even manage to leave me for so long?! The last time I went for a walk and got lost, you practically had a panic attack!" Her tail smacks his face repeatedly. "You stupid darling!!" She sniffles, her lips pursed to keep herself from crying.

"It was Vengarl's fault," Sær says shakily.

"WHAT?! It was Rosabeth's fault! She kicked me off the cliff!"

Rosabeth jumps. "Wha- it- um, uh, it-it-it was Grahame's fault!"

"Come into the cage and say that, you bitch."

The entire group paused and looked at the friendly cage spider, jaws agape.

"Grahame means... It was Lady Priscilla's fault."

And just like that, the argument dissolved into peals of laughter.