Milda had vowed to modify one thing in her lifestyle, which thereby affected Iganì's as well; she, with Nanette, decided to spend more time with her dragon.

"Well, we weren't with each other enough," Milda said simply, when Jarsha asked her why late the following afternoon.

The young storyteller had been forced to recount what the younger children dubbed as two chapters in Romena's increasingly long tale – for 'missing a day', as the younger children referred to it. The story had now grown to epic proportions. In it, Romena, along with her friends and dragon, had helped to vanquish Palancar and restore peace to the Broddring Kingdom. He was running out of ideas. He thought the story was long enough, but Merrick evidently thought otherwise, as he and Alden continued to batter down his defenses and he had been forced to give in. Jarsha, after having run his mind through many options, had finally decided on tomorrow's chapter after an hour's contemplation; as a result, he was quite satisfied with himself. Though, in his words and even thoughts, he was careful to avoid what had occurred the day before; he and Milda were now the same as always – the only difference was that they were both lightly treading around the matter and she, as he, was itching to discuss it.

Not that this showed, of course. Milda could be a brilliant actor when she wanted to be; Jarsha was forced to think even as she spoke. "You know, for all I know there may be something wrong with our mental link. Mirofr even said that we should keep it flowing between us, and I know we haven't."

"How?" asked Jarsha, forced to think even with that simple word.

Milda blushed at this, though one would wonder if it was because of embarrassment or…something else. "Well… We haven't. Usually, I can contact Iganì from wherever I am, but I haven't. So, when one of us is, er, 'feeling strong emotions,' like that elf--"

"Keltra," Jarsha interrupted, feeling slightly more confident.

"—Keltra said, then I only feel a pinprick." She cut off abruptly and rubbed an elbow, as if the needle of emotions stung her there. "It's only a soft prick with strong feelings – strong feelings, mind you. If they were softer I wouldn't be able to sense them. That's how weak our connection is."

Jarsha cocked his head and looked inquisitively at her. He still felt strange, but – weird as some things were – good enough to converse with her without being forced to think with every sentence. "It could still get better, though," he encouraged, "you know. After all, just because you and Iganì haven't been conversing doesn't mean you can't."

All this time, Nanette, absent from the presences of Alden and Merrick for once, had been sitting patiently between them, eyes shifting from one to the other with their respective two cents. Now, playing with a lock of dark hair, she finally decided to voice her opinion and toss it in with Jarsha's. "Aye, I'd better remember that," she laughed, releasing her grip on the deep black bang. "I don't want that to happen to me and Crimson Flame."

Milda observed her junior with wise, intelligent gray eyes. "Aye, you'd better do that." She paused to grin, chagrined. "I'd better do it too. A lot."

The girls laughed, and after a few seconds Jarsha did too. "I'm glad I don't have a dragon," he quipped, still laughing, but not unkindly. "I don't want to offend you two or anything of the like, but, you know, I would have trouble learning how to take care of one."

All at once, Nanette and Milda began babbling:

"Oh, it's almost no trouble at all," supplied Milda with a wide grin. "You know, once the dragon is a few months old and able to communicate with you, you just need to talk with them every day and make sure that you get to fly on them once in a while. Oh, and have lots of fun with them of course, with training and with everyday life."

"Aye, it's great!" Nanette gushed excitedly. "You get to play, have fun, watch, and ride your dragon. And the Dragon Riders are really strong!" A pause. "Hey, wait! Did I just say that?"

You did, child, rumbled Iganì. The violet dragon appeared, poking her snout onto Milda's back. You did, and now it's time for you two to pay the price. For while Milda talked of conversing more with me, she was forgetting one thing: she actually had to do it, she went on, having projected her thoughts for all to hear.

The said Rider blushed, muttered something unintelligible and ran to her dragon, wrapping her arms around her scaled neck. And, while the two of them were caught in this happy, shamefaced meeting, Nanette strode over to Crimson Flame and offered a hand.

The dragon snorted and affectionately began to lick her palm. Nanette giggled, promptly remembered herself, and instead dignifiedly sat down beside him. There she stayed, hand straying from Crimson Flame's snout to the ridge of spikes on his head. He looked up at her with bright amber eyes.

"You're so different," murmured Nanette as she happily stroked the ridge with the palm of her left hand. "You're not like the other dragons. You're – er – vastly, vastly different. I want to talk to you more." She smiled and extended her hand so that she was now stroking the smooth scales above his eyes. "Speaking of talking, we should do it a lot more."

Crimson Flame curled his tail. At first it looked like an indifferent gesture, but Nanette saw happiness in that simple movement before running her hand from his forehead to his armored underside; even at this young age, his scales were still quite developed.

Nanette's smile expanded into a grin as she continued crooning to him. "Ain't that right, Flame? You know, I'm a Rider, you're the dragon – we should be the best of friends."

Crimson Flame, now showing his affection in a more definite and foolproof way, placed his head on her lap. Humming, Nanette smiled yet more.