Magical

It is one of the more bemusing of pairings: the fearless, energetic, and pragmatic little tundra who likes to prepare food, and her giant imperial beloved, bookish and hesitant, who prefers to listen rather than talk. But their devotion to one another is obvious, and the clan thinks it's adorable.

***

"Come by for something to eat?" Magical asked, carefully tucking a leaf around the edge of her latest cake. "I'm just finishing this up if you'd like it."

Viremia sat back on her haunches, wide-eyed. "Oh no. I could never disturb a work of art like that. Much less eat it!"

"Someone should," Magical said. "It's not for show, it's for enjoying. By putting it in your mouth and swallowing it. If you're into plants, anyway. I have a stew going for the carnivores."

"I just... just a little snack? If that's all right?"

"I've got some spare leaves there, help yourself."

The other tundra plucked a few up, then said, uncertain, "You... aren't disturbed. That I'm in your kitchen."

"Why would I be disturbed?" Magical asked absently, wedging another leaf into the side of the cake.

Viremia's ears sagged. "Because I'm a Plague dragon? Who goes into the Boneyard looking for diseases for Calla?"

"Mmm. Do you clean yourself off when you come back?"

"Of course!"

"And you're not planning on adding any diseases to my food?"

"I would never," Viremia exclaimed, aghast.

Magical said, "I don't have anything to worry about, then, do I?" When Viremia didn't answer, the tundra looked up over the top of the cake and smiled.

Viremia smiled back.

"Why don't you keep me company?" Magical said. "I could use it."

"All right," Viremia said, flattered, and sat alongside the table.

"And eat those spare leaves."

"They're good!"

"Glazed with peppers and honey," Magical said, satisfied. "No reason to eat your salad plain."