Random writings (from Society of Fantasy Writers group submission)

"No, My Lady, that wasn't the deadly forest dragonet." He held out his hand. "Let me help you down."

"If it wasn't a dragon," Lady Elspeth demanded, as she took his hand, "what was it?"

"That," he answered, "was a forest ombigon. Really quite harmless, I assure you." He shook his head. "Of course, if you exclude their penchant for stealing bright things. And if you ignore their stink. And if you don't catch forest itch from them. And the bad luck they're said to bring."

She snatched her hand away from his. "I'm staying here until you kill it."

He frowned at her. "That, My Lady, isn't such a good idea."

"Why ever not?" she retorted. "I'll be much safer here out of this..." she waved her hand around at the forest, "...this ombigon thingy."

"I should then inform you, My Lady, that you're standing in a patch of poison ivy."

With a shriek, Lady Elspeth jumped down into his arms.