Angor knew he probably went out cold back there. Since he woke up just fine, somebody must have saved him. But who was it? And where did that dragon go?
"Who-who are you?" He tried asking the stranger while sitting up, only to find that his voice sounded nothing like his usual self. He sounded like a 50-year-old chronic smoker. His throat hurt by making the slightest sound.
The figure sitting at the fire slowly opened her eyes, which surprised Angor when he saw her look.
At first, Angor thought it was a man with dark skin and short, clean-cut hair. But with the help of firelight, he noticed that it was a slim-bodied woman. She looked quite tall, maybe above two meters. Her glossy, tan skin was slightly shimmering against the light. The woman wasn't wearing any clothes apart from several blueish black scales covering her private parts. And Angor found those scales to be familiar.
