At the moment, there was nothing Samila wanted to do more than scream. She was deserted in the middle of the desert, with no idea where she was going, no idea of what to do, and carrying nothing but a haversack and a hatchling dragon. Not to mention how hard it was to walk through sand in a dress. Couldn't Murtagh at least have given her a spare change of clothes?

"Dumb Murtagh. Dumb desert. Dumb dress. Dumb shoes. Dumb sand. Dumb Ergoom. Dumb king. Dumb elves, Varden Surda- Dumb Everything! Yes, you too!" she said, glaring at the hatching in her arms. "Talk! Fly! Get me out of here! Find food! Do something other than sleeping and making me lug you through a desert of hot sand! You're useless! Dragons are supposed to be strong and wise! I'm not seeing any strong and wise. BE STRONG AND WISE!" Yes, she sounded stupid at the moment. But she was tired, she was cranky, and she was lost.

You complain a lot. That shut her up.

"You talk already?"

No, this is you dead mother speaking. How are you? Great. Just started talking and already into the sarcasm. Just peachy,

"Oh, very funny," spat Samila. "You surprised me, that's all. I thought it would take you longer."

Just because you humans take years to learn to speak doesn't mean dragons do.

"Shut up." Still, it was nice to have someone to talk to. "Any idea what to do?"

Other than walk? Not particularly. If you haven't noticed, there's no other way to get through this.

"Can't you fly?"

No idea. Not really too keen on trying yet. That sand looks disgusting.

"Try walking through it," she muttered.

Not to mention if I could fly, you'd try and make me carry everything.

"Lazy bum."

Are you kidding? I'm less than a quarter of your great hulking bulk!

"Not for long you won't be. Thorn's big enough to carry two people and fly easily."

That would take me at least six months.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, we only have a month's worth of food."

Then you'd better pick up the pace.

"Argh! You are a hopeless case!" Samila viciously kicked some of the sand in front of her, and merely succeeded in filling her moccasins with even more sand. "Great! Just great," she huffed.

Someone needs to learn to control her temper.

"Control my temper? You want me to control my temper while I'm trudging through a burning desert with no idea where in the name of I-don't-know-what, with a month's provisions, carry you, and on top of that, I've just got the most powerful man in all of the land against me, with two dragons on his side, just because I decided to defend your sorry carcass. So if you haven't noticed, I REALLY COULDN'T CARE LESS IF YOU THINK I SHOULD CONTROL MY TEMPER!"

Save your breath for walking. We've got a long ways to go.

"You are such a-"

The more you yell, the longer we're here.

"I'll have you know that I hate you with a passion right now."

Good for you.

"Thanks for the encouragement there." She sighed and shifted the haversack on the bag, continuing her trek through the seemingly endless sand.

-----------------------------------

Night had fallen by the time Samila stopped to rest and make camp. That is, if you could call a threadbare blanket lying on the sand a camp. She had recently found out, much to her dismay, that young dragons could not breathe fire.

"What?!"

Must I explain again?

"Oh, shut up. I hate you." She sullenly flung a few strips of meat at his head.

It's not my fault. You couldn't even string a sentence together when you were two days old.

"Oh, making fun of me now, are you?"

Oh, not at all.

"Har har har. So funny."

I try. Samila wrapped the blanket around herself and lay down.

"You can just sleep in the cold, then."

I don't need a blanket. I have an inner heater.

Damn. Her plan had backfired. Stupid dragon. Always ruining everything. She yawned and curled into a small ball.

"Shut up and sleep."

I could say the same for you.

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was kicking sand at the hatchling.

Yes. This is a really short chapter. I had an extreme brainblock for the last… a really long time. Let's go with that. Anyhoo, disclaimer, don't own stuff, blah blah… All that happy stuff. And thank you to all my reviewers!

-Liphra