Love And War by Various

was then that Tosch flew to her door, calling out, “Come look at my new wings!”
    Kyra stuck her head out the window and saw gold sparkles on Tosch's wings, dancing in the
     dawn light.
    “You've outdone yourself,” she declared.
    “And so have you,” Tosch cried happily, seeing the paint smears on her face. “Are you
     coloring your body now, too?”
    “No,” she sighed wearily. “But I have decided to do some painting.”
    “Ooh, let me see. I want to see.” Tosch bubbled with excitement.
    “There's nothing for you to look at yet,” she explained. But she knew deep in her heart
     that even if there had been, she would not have shown it to anyone, not even Tosch. Her
     painting was too private, too personal. Later, when she improved her craft, when she had
     captured Seron the way she remembered him, only then would she let the world see her work.
     Not before.
    Tosch was disappointed that he couldn't see her pictures, but the colour on her face
     buoyed him up nonetheless. “I'll fly you over to the tavern,” he offered cheerfully. “Lets
     go.”
    “Not today,” she said. “I want to keep working.”
    Her old friend shrugged and said, “Okay. I'll see you later.”
    Tosch did, indeed, see her later . . . fourteen years later. By then, Kyra was an aging
     barmaid, working only to earn enough money to keep her in paints, brushes, and canvas. She
     had never stopped painting her beloved Seron.
    “Notice anything different?” the dragon said easily, as if he were just picking up
     yesterday's conversation.
    Kyra was used to it, though, and happily beamed with joy at his appearance in front of her
     crumbling shack. “It's your nose,” she said, after looking him over. “It's changed . . .
     it's smaller!”
    “That's right!” he exclaimed. “I knew you'd notice.” “But what happened to it? It looks,
     well, sort of pinched and turned-up.“ ”Isn't it cute?“ ”Well . . .“ ”I asked a bunch of gnomes to do it for me.
     I just had to have a smaller nose. I don't know exactly what they did. They built a strange contraption,
     but I think it worked. Look at me. Isn't it darling?”
    “Can you breathe all right?”
    “Not too bad. You do like it, don't you?” he asked, suddenly concerned that he had made a
     mistake.
    “I'll show you what I think of it,” she said. “Lean down close to me.”
    The great brass dragon lowered its head close to Kyra, and she gave him a loving kiss on
     the nose. “You'll always be the handsomest, cutest, most adorable dragon to me,” she said.
    Tosch blushed, though it was hard to tell against the multi-colored cape he wore. To hide
     his embarrassment, he cleared his throat and asked, “How is your painting coming along?
     Can I see your pictures now?”
    “I'm sorry,” she replied evasively. “They're really not good enough yet. Someday,” she
     promised.
    “Soon?”
    A smile creased her worn, but still lovely face. “By your standards, yes. Soon.”
    *****
    Highlords came and went. Great cities rose and fell. Wars were fought, lost, and won. But
     Tosch, in his fashion, was ever constant. Throughout the years, he visited his aging
     friend, coming to see her eleven years later, then nine years, then finally twelve years
     after that. But during none of those visits, did she ever show him her paintings.
    It was beginning to annoy him. While the dragon was as young and vibrant as the day he had
     met Kyra and Seron, she had reached an age where it seemed she was always cranky.
     Especially on his latest visit. He had seen her earlier in the day and found her to be
     strangely unimpressed with his new purple hat. All she wanted to do was get back to her
     painting. She said she was finally getting close to achieving what she'd been after all
     these years. That was just fine with him, but why couldn't she pay more attention to his
     hat? After all, everyone else thought it was boldly original. There was no doubt in his