An Unexpected Vir(tu)al Party

[piosenniel]

“By Glaurung‘s third molars!” a man exclaimed. “Does each and everyone on these Downs have their own pet dragon nowadays?”

Her hearing had always been quite acute. Angara’s head whipped round to focus on who had uttered this quite mistaken opinion. Her gold-green eyes fixed on the speaker. “Pet! My A…!!” she started to hiss toward the fellow.

“SSssst! Quiet!!” Pio picked up her pace, attempting to put a necessary distance between the man and herself. “Don’t start a fight! We’re hardly in the door!!”

Angara gave the man one last scathing glance and a last parting comment. “And to be clear, dear, if anyone’s the pet,” she said with a certain smugness, “it’s the Elf!”

Pio made for the bar she’d noticed at the other end of the room. “Tall glass, if you please, ‘Keep. Something strong.” She nodded at the tap he pointed to. “Yes, that, thanks!.” Taking a long drink, she held up her hand, indicating to the Barman she had an additional request. “Oh, and for my friend, here,” Pio said, pointing at Angara, “a nice bowl of wine . . . something Dorwinian, to sweeten her mood.”