*Katerina's POV*

My lips were wind-chapped by the time the dragons gave up for the evening. I was more exhausted after a day of sitting in the saddle than I had been when I traveled on foot, which shouldn't have been possible.

Rakota landed and walked to the side before crouching to let me off. My leg muscles burned as I stiffly climbed down from the saddle. I leaned against a tree and tried various stretches, wondering if I'd even survive a two-day flight to Emerson City. My muscles sure didn't seem to think so.

Rakota's broad back was much wider than a plow horse's. If the saddle hadn't been high enough to cover the vertical plates running down his neck, it would have been much worse. One thing was clear: riding definitely used different muscles than walking. And every single one of them was telling me about it.

A shimmer of light appeared over the harness, and by the time I blinked, the harness disappeared. Rakota shook his scales out, and after a brief glance at me, he walked away.

He called back, "We'll be staying here tonight and will resume our search in the morning."

Judging by the sun's position, I had an hour or so until darkness fell. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that it had been a long time since I ate a trail bar around noon. Rakota's other landings had only been long enough to allow me a bathroom break.

I trudged into the trees for another break and to collect firewood. The nights got cool enough that my cloak and light bedroll weren't quite sufficient to keep me from shivering. If nothing else, collecting enough wood for the night would help me loosen up my muscles.

About a dozen trips later, Randel appeared near my neat pile of branches and moved some into the ring of rocks I'd set up for a fire pit. I frowned, but since I had planned to start the fire shortly, I shrugged it off and went to find more wood.

By my next trip, he had a decent-sized fire and was still adding more wood. I hesitated, but keeping warm at night was more important to me than remaining politely silent.

"I'm sorry, but could you please stop adding wood to the fire?"

He looked up with a blank expression. "Why? There's plenty here."

"There isn't quite enough to last all night, especially with a bigger fire."

"It's not?"

"No..." I examined the man who only had his clothing, sword, and waterskin. "How do you stay warm at night?"

"Andar lets me lean against him," he replied with a dismissive shrug as he put another branch on the fire.

I bit my lip to keep from berating him again for wasting the firewood I'd gathered. I was sorely tempted, but a scolding probably wouldn't work on someone with such a lovely personality, and leaning against a dragon wasn't exactly an option for me. I needed to think. Could bribery be the answer? I already knew he liked food, and he didn't have a backpack with provisions.

"If you want to gather more firewood, I can start cooking some bread." I held my breath, hoping it'd work.

His stomach growled as he turned to stare at me. "You can cook bread over a campfire?"

I was beginning to think this guy wasn't the sharpest knife in the butcher shop. "Yes, but it takes a while to cook, so I need a lot of firewood. I can't cook and gather wood at the same time."

The lie worked, and he got to his feet. "Alright."

I breathed a sigh of relief as he disappeared into the trees, muttering about me having already collected all the easy stuff. I'd lose some flour, but if he was bold enough to take food from kings, my bread wouldn't have been safe anyway.

Going over to my backpack, I pulled out my flour and two tiny pots to cook the miniature loaves in. Even though my own stomach demanded food now, I worked slowly so the rider would keep gathering wood instead of burning mine.

Despite my delays, the smell of cooking bread soon filled the air and lured the rider back to the fire. He dropped his meager armful of sticks on the woodpile and sat by the fire, eyeing up the bread hungrily.

"It's going to be a few minutes," I said, hoping he'd take the hint to keep working. The light was rapidly fading as the sun set and trying to collect fallen branches in the dark wasn't a fun or safe task.

"That's fine. I can wait."

So much for my hint. Shaking my head, I got up and began picking up branches along the tree line.

When I saw him pulling another branch out of the pile, I told him, "Don't add any wood or you could burn the bread."

He grumbled but put the branch back on the pile. I only managed to gather half an armful before the bread was done, although it was more than what I had previously. I used a stick to drag the small tins away from the coals to cool.

Randel waited impatiently and eventually reached over to grab a loaf, plucking it from the pot. He juggled the steaming bread between his hands as it burned his fingertips. I used the stick to pull my loaf closer to me, just in case he decided to get greedy.

About the time I started picking pieces off my loaf, he took a big bite of his. There was blessed silence as he fought to chew the dense bread.

"This is good!" he exclaimed before taking another big bite.

I regarded the bread between my fingers, wondering if he was losing his mind. The flour had been the cheapest I could find, made of loosely ground grain with large chunks of seed and even some chaff mixed in. It was meant to be filling, not something you'd serve to guests unless you didn't want them to return.

"Thanks," I murmured as I ate a mouthful.

"I can't believe you cooked this over a fire. I've never seen anything like this in any castle."

"I can't imagine they'd serve this there," I replied, still confused about what was so great about campfire bread made with flour and water. Even the poorest of peasants usually added a bit of oil, milk, or an egg to the flour before cooking.

"They should! It tastes like the smell of roasted grain. And it's so chewy! That fluffy bread on the King's table leaves you hungry after an hour. I bet I'll stay full until morning with this!"

I slowly nibbled on my dinner as he kept raving about the bread that most men would have stuck their noses up at. Apparently he wasn't a fussy eater. Unfortunately, that also meant he wouldn't turn down my bread in the future.

By the time I finished eating my small loaf, I had drunk all the water in my waterskin. With a resigned sigh, I picked up the two pots and detoured around the dragons to reach the lakeshore.

I warily eyed up the small pond but assumed it was safe since the dragons had drank from it earlier. After washing the pots, I filled them with water and headed back to the fire. It would take a few trips before I boiled enough to fill my waterskins.

I really wished I had a water purification charm, but reliable ones were expensive and usually had to be bought directly from the mage, which pretty much prevented such a thing from ever happening, even if I managed to save up enough money.

Crackling made me look up from the uneven ground to see Randel dumping an entire armload of wood on the fire. A fire lit inside me at the man's audacity.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"There was no bread cooking, and it's a bit chilly with no cloak."

My voice grew sharper. "Sir, you might not get cold tonight, but I needed that firewood to stay warm."

A heavy sigh from behind made me freeze in my tracks as Rakota walked past me. He reached into the forest and dragged a dead tree out. The dry branches snapped as his claws shredded them free from the trunk.

The pile of branches soon became taller than I was – more than enough for tonight, even with a large fire. As if the branches alone weren't sufficient, he pinned the trunk against the ground and clawed larger sections free. By the time he finished, everything was small enough for me to lift or drag.

When his eyes rested on me, I bowed deeply. "Thank you very much, Rakota. I really appreciate it."

After several long seconds, he began walking back to the others with remarkably quiet footsteps. If I hadn't been paying attention and seen him leave, I might have easily ignored the faint sound of grass being crushed under his weight.

At least I wouldn't be cold tonight.