The child touched the dragon scale beneath her collar before joining the household at the capital manor's supper table.
The bitter subterranean chill of the archive vaults melted away under the comforting heat of the roaring dry pine logs.
Upon the long banquet table rested steaming platters of roasted venison, spiced honey root vegetables, fresh crusty bread, and herbal tea.
Rumi and Nari sat side by side on a cushioned bench, their eight combined wings fluttering softly as they devoured hot meat pies.
"I never imagined simple roasted mutton could taste like the food of the gods!" the elder runner exclaimed between enthusiastic bites.
"That is the natural consequence of sprinting through three spatial conduits on an empty stomach," Ferra teased warmly, pouring spiced cider.
"You earned every single bite of that feast, little rascals!"
Across the table, the child sat wrapped in a soft woolen blanket, nibbling quietly on a buttered roll while watching the leaping flames.
