On the eastern tip, Jaxom could see that pits had been dug for roasting, metal spits erected and fires started. Tables had been placed in the shade on which Jaxom could see the piled mounds of red, orange and green fruits.
Ruth hovered over the clearing, gently landing. Two men by the fire-pits leaped to Jaxom’s assistance as he offloaded the wherry. Ruth immediately vaulted out of the way so that Jaxom could guide the other carcasses dangling from the hunting ropes of the bigger dragons.
F’nor, stripping off his flying gear, walked slowly up to Jaxom, squinting against the brilliant glare from the sands as he surveyed the activity in the once peaceful cove. He sighed deeply but began to nod his head as if unexpectedly satisfied by something.
“Yes, it’ll work out all right,” he said, more to himself than to Jaxom because he turned then, smiling, and gripped Jaxom by the shoulder. “Yes, they’ll make the transition easily.”
“Transition?”
F’nor clearly didn’t mean the present building frenzy.
“Dragonfolk going back to the land, the hold. How much exploring have you been able to do around here?”
“The coves, as far back as those river meadows, and some of the immediate interior the day before yesterday with Piemur.”
As one, the two men turned toward the cone of the volcano that lay, cloud clad, in the distance.
“Yes, it does sort of draw your eye, doesn’t it?” F’nor grinned. “You’ll get there first, Jaxom. In fact, I’d prefer it if you and Piemur began some serious explorations with that as your goal. Yes, that pleases you, doesn’t it? Better for you, too, and Piemur. Now, before I forget it again, where’s that firelizard clutch you reported?”
“There’re twenty-one eggs and I’d like to have five of them, if I may …”
“Of course!”
“To be taken to Ruatha!”
“By evening.”
“You know, that’s curious.” Jaxom craned his body about, looking everywhere.
“What?”
“Usually there’re a lot more firelizards around. I don’t count more than a double handful. And they’re all banded.”