No one was more puzzled to find a tiny raptor tucked into her sleeping bag than Jamethera.

"What the fel." She leaned down to flip over the tag, and saw only a single word: Enjoy. It was in Ambrosine's familiar, painstakingly neat handwriting.

"The last thing you need is another damned dinosaur," Illyana muttered as she tethered her ram for the night.

"No, I always need more," the hunter said quickly. She loved them–they were strange, and fascinating creatures. Her lover, however, didn't share that sentiment. "Just wasn't expecting Ambrosine to be the one feeding my habit."

"Probably needed a home. You know what a sucker she is."

Jamethera snort-laughed. "She's one frowning husband away from being a one woman orphanage and animal rescue, aye." She plucked the sleeping raptor from his spot and got her fingers nibbled on for her efforts. "Hey now. You need to share. And if you don't watch it, you'll be named Bitey."

 

Author Ambrosine
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