“Halvarsson’s rules not mine,” the dragon growled. “I have no more choice in this than you do. Less, for you may choose to die. I am stuck here in this hole, in this steel skin, until the Last Fire.”
Liensé opened her mouth, then seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say, and closed it again.
“Let Gareth heal you, Liensé,” Brennon said with an air of exasperation. “Who knows when we will need a sword or just a spare hand? I don’t want you unable to use that arm for a week.”
“What does it matter if I’m stuck in here?” Liensé muttered, but she stood up. “What do I do?”


It's a bit odd, isn't it - seeing little pieces of stories like this?