Preparing for Battle (or so they say)
“Five minutes!” Tyraelus, their guild leader, yelled from across the stone platform. “Five minutes until we have this dragon’s head on a pike!”
Saelym glanced over her shoulder as she flipped the small magick cards in her hand, only half aware of Sasinko casting a summoning portal a mere arm’s legth away, or Vargos yelling that he was about out of conjured food and anybody not getting any in the next thirty seconds would be going hungry. Beside her, Onakoko, her best friend, shuffled slightly before nudging Saelym with one caramel-furred elbow.
“Well?” she asked. Saelym blinked and turned back to her.
“Huh?”
“Well?” Onakoko repeated. Saelym blinked, then shook her head as she examined the cards she held.
“Sorry,” she replied sheepishly. “Go fish.”
