“Don’t expect me to start bowing to you,” said Erro, grinning with his arms crossed.
Aquila cooed softly and moved to nuzzle his feathered head into Erro’s chest. Erro embraced the griffin, rubbing his head against Aquila’s and stroking his feathers.
“Hello, old friend,” he said.
Atalanta stared at Erro, slack-jawed. He didn’t seem to notice. He kept his attention on Aquila and said, “Now where’s—”
The odd little fur ball with b...
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