“Hurry!” he called when it was at last within earshot. “The malathin’s already started. We don’t want to be too late.”
Tyladerm sidled lazily up and glanced at him coyly. “Is that the sort of welcome home I get?” it asked.
In response, Bredakon raised his tendrils to its, and the two of them stood lovingly for a moment with their tendrils intertwined. It was like that first night of pleasure, come rushing back to mind all at once. Both could feel the aura, both clung to the moment, reluctant to let it go again.
Eventually they parted from the embrace and together began moving toward the building. “Great is the Zethos,” sighed Tyladerm wistfully, its four eyes sparkling with the happiness of reunion.
“And greater are we who make the Zethos flad,” Bredakon answered in soft, gentle tones.
