The trio are eating cooked fish around a campfire, not talking to each other, but enjoying the company.
Trench is eating a salmon, with a pretty large stream is behind him. He seemed soaked, probably being the one who caught the fish.
Syrella stuck her tongue out at her trout. “Yuck. Eating fish is the worse.”
Russel took a bite of his perch. He swallowed it before he tilted his head at Syrella. “You don’t like eating fish?”
”No. They’re slimy and smell bad. I like poultry better.”
Russel gave her a deadpan expression. “And you say that to the one who’s part bird...”
As the two demigods began to argue about food, a quadruped figure with a white cloak drops down from the trees behind Trench and holds a knife and a claw to his throat.
Trench yelps a little when he sees the knife, before he stutters, “Uh... guys?!”
Russel and Syrella stop arguing and look at Trench and the cloaked figure with wide eyes. “Trench!” Russel yelped.
”Neither of you move,” the cloaked figure, who was presumably a dragon, commanded. “Or the hybrid gets it.”
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How do you write like you're running out of time?
When you're falling in a forest, and there's nobody around...
Take a moment to think of just
Flexibility, love and trust...
I might have an ace up my sleeve