Scritch picked herself up and brushed the street dirt from her scales before looking back to the man.

Her expression was impassive as she stared up at the man. It shifted slowly to curiosity as she wandered back up to him. He seemed preoccupied with the approach of another man.

Scritch was new to the concept of commerce and trade, but Leoric was fairly explicit in his instructions. She was to ask the nice man if she could purchase some armor. She was to offer her gold and if he took it, she could take her armor and leave. He didn’t say anything about kicking her, but she supposed that some humans were far more versed in draconian manners than others.

“Huh,” She said with a little chirp in her voice. She blinked one eye, then the other and shook her head as she stood. Shopping was far more difficult than she thought.

She walked back to the stall and carefully wandered behind his booth. She climbed his counter, reached her little arms as high as they could go and easily unbuckled the shoulderplate. It slipped off quietly.

“Oh yes, I assure you, the finest Mellarian steel,” the merchant said to the passerby.

Scritch was born in the mines, of mining kobolds, learned of steel and qualities far beyond her dragon’s territory. If that was Mellarian steel, the floating words and numbers that clouded her vision were upsettingly wrong.

With the shoulder armor in hand, she looked at her distorted reflection in it and then looked around for something to carry it with. With luck, she saw a small satchel laid out over the counter, just large enough to hold her ‘purchase.’ She lifted the flap, carefully slid the armor in. It disappeared without atrace.

“Wah!” She muttered to herself before lifting the flap to look into it with a squint. Only darkness met her eyes.

She reached her arm in, cautiously trying to find the shoulder armor. She felt only the inside of the bag, and even then it was quite a stretch to reach. She opened the bag wider and stuck her head in, just her muzzle at first. It smelled like leather and stale air. She smelled food rations and salted meat. She snuffled deeper and deeper until she found her entire head, then shoulders into the bag.

“Give it back!” She said angrily to the inside of the bag. She flailed her arms and found the piece almost pushed into her palms. She pulled it out, then pushed it in again with confusion.

“Huh…”

She threw the bag over her shoulder, walked to the edge of the counter and walked happily away, purchase in her new little bag. The shopkeeper didn’t even hit her this time! He must have been pleased with the offering of gold, she thought.

At the other end of the street she walked up proudly, her little satchel full of armor in hand and smiled up at Baldir who was hitching up their new mule to an older, yet very serviceable cart.

“They have surrendered gold for this traveling cave. I am pleased with our investment,” Blast said to Scritch as she arrived.

“Get your armor?” Leoric asked and Scritch nodded happily.

“The human only kicked me once!” She said happily before scampering up the side of the wagon and perching on top of its frame.

Blast gave a growl of annoyance.

“Only I may kick you when I’m big enough to do so,” Blast said.

Scritch looked over to Blast and grabbed her in her little arms. She flailed angrily, spitting little sparks before going limp against her.

“You need food,” Scritch said firmly.

“I saw a delicious raccoon earlier. It made strange noises and scratched me,” Blast said.

“It was a cat,” Leoric responded.

Scritch looked over Blast, turning her over, much to the smaller reptile’s protests. Scritch extended her tongue and licked over Blast, slurping around her head and neck with vigor as Leoric and Baldir set the wagon to head out.

“STOP THIS! It is unnecessary! I am a naturally clean beast. GET YOUR TONGUE OFF ME!,” Blast said.

“I’ll stop when you stop being dirty,” Scritch said, chittering back at the struggling Blast.

“I AM NOT DIRTY!”

Scritch snuffled over Blast’s belly, neck and wings, preening them with lapping darts of her tongue. She flailed and fought until a shrill sharp reee was heard.

It was a long breath, a scream, a shrill noise all wrapped up into a squeal.

Blast was rigid in Scritch’s arms, shaking, mouth wide open as tiny sparks flicked in her mouth.

Leoric peeked his head up over the side with a brow raised.

“What the hell is going on?” Baldir asked.

“The little one doesn’t want a bath,” Leoric said before settling back down.

“GRANDPA! SAVE ME! YOUR MASTER COMMANDS IT!”Blast said.

What Baldir heard, however, was: “REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.”

They arrived to the other side of town in a smaller trade district that evening and found a place to settle in where their new Mule could get feed and water.

Blast was limp, defeated and surly. Scritch was absentmindedly pleased with herself and excited to see what new wonders and smells could help them.

She gingerly placed her bag at the top of the cart and scrambled down to inspect their surroundings. She hoisted herself on all fours and scrambled up and down the cart with low snuffling noises and throaty little grunts.

“Nyeh….meh….mrf,” She grumbled to herself.

Blast curiously snuck over to the new bag and flipped open the mouth of the satchel.

She stuck her head in, then her shoulders, then the rest of her body. All but the tip of her tail was inside for a frozen moment. She slid herself out, grabbed the strap in her mouth and dragged it across to the edge of the cart.

“GRANDPA! This bag is broken,” Blast said as she dropped the satchel into Leoric’s half-sleeping lap.

He woke with a snort, looked down at the unassuming bag and nearly choked.

“Where did you get this!?” Leoric said as he cast the bag from his lap to the floorboard with a slap.

“Scritch brought it back from the merchant. She says she has her armor in it,” Blast said as she stared down at it.

“This is an enchanted pack of storage,” Leoric wheezed.

“It can hold lots of gold,” Blast said proudly.

“This isn’t just coins from a bar fight. She’s stolen ten times over your pile here…from one person… Someone’s going to get very very angry,” Leoric said sharply.

“BALDIR! I’m taking the reins. We need out of town,” Leoric said sharply. Baldir didn’t need to question it. He knew to run when told, and he hopped into the cart.