Andarin: The Mountains: to the annoying brat; --

He sighed. That was all it took.

Then he bent his head, touched her back and the place where the fangs had been, sensed the infection there; starting already, thick and strong. It would have paralyzed her at first, before it sent her into convulsions as the nerves restarted. In a human it might take six to twelve hours; in a filly…

Well. Nothing would happen, as his lips had already locked over the wound and killed it as if it’d never happened.

“And this is why you don’t mess with poisonous snakes.”

His mind is running already; shame on you.

Hey, she started it! Dior indeed…!

She’s young, he sighed. He could feel a headache coming.

Wyvern hated being an oracle about as much as he hated the idea of sex with girls – which, as it happens, didn’t stop either thing from happening. He didn’t like having to heal others, selfish prick that he was, and he had only been a scholar at all because the warrior and espionage classes were too productive for his taste. He loathed being a part of their society.

But he couldn’t let the kid die.

“Now, you know.”

And, hopefully, she’ll scamper to mommy’s side and leave him alone.

wyvern
yea, they shall say, earth's womb has borne in vain
new things, and never this best thing again;