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."
B'rak purposely displayed long rows of sharp teeth designed for
tearing. He much preferred meat to plants and broths. Fresh meat,
especially. The elf was unaffected by his act. She smiled and
placed the broth on the table. The draconian sniffed. It did smell
good. There was meat in it, too, judging by the aroma. He made
his way to the table and sat down in one of the chairs.
The bowl was small, allowing him to swallow the contents in
three gulps. He looked up, tongue clearing away the last vestiges
of the broth. Aurilla was already there, a second bowl in her hands.
B'rak grunted his satisfaction, and she smiled like a mother who
had just been complimented by her favorite child. The draconian
could not help chuckling at the odd picture that presented.
He took longer with the second bowl. His headache was
nagging. Sleep was now becoming an urgent need. He grew
impatient for the Speaker's return. One taloned hand gripped the
now-empty bowl and crushed it. As if on cue, the ancient elf
returned.
"I have prepared sleeping quarters for you with your men. Or
you may stay here if you wish."
"I will stay here. My second and the mage will be allowed in
here as well. My warriors will be satisfied with whatever they can
find." Such are the privileges of rank, the captain added mentally.
There was suddenly a commotion at the entrance. B'rak,
hearing draconian voices raised in anger, pulled out his sword
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