Bettijane got the message and quickly. Her snack could wait a few minutes more. She leaped from Galain's head and landed up against the stone of the inn, yellow eyes glaring balefully through the nearest window. She could wait all day like this and she would.
Meanwhile, Galain was patting his head down. So far the hair was mostly intact, ear tips weren't too badly mangled, and... well, she'd run holy heck over him, but she knew from whence came her daily treats.
The elf stood up and brushed himself off before he realized that he had the damnedest marks running up his backside -- legs, backside, back, to be precise.
"She ran me over!" he exclaimed and strode through the open door.
Oh hells. Three red heads and a blonde now. He faltered, started to speak and then inhaled the scent of coffee. He could forgive anything for coffee.
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