Constantine looked up to see the dragon stirring from its slumber. "She's out washing and gathering more herbs," he told the noble creature before returning to inspecting his wounds. "Junior decided to tag along in case you haven't noticed the conspicuously quiet absence of your spawnling."
A lethargic huff left the dragon's nostrils, and a cloud of slow-blown smoke rolled along the domed surface of the cave ceiling. It stretched its forelimbs in languorous lassitude before turning its eyes back on the assassin. Constantine caught the gaze and returned it, though he continued to probe experimentally at the scab on his forearm. "She'll leave with the kid if you're not careful," he added. "Watch yourself."
The man suddenly drew himself up (as much as he could while still sitting) when the
