Blutgang was interested to see a five-foot dragon lying on his wife’s blankets. He was about to shoo whoever it was out, but he soon realized it was his wife. She had grown again, and he wondered if she would notice this time. She was four feet longer than before and had a mane of yellow hair growing from her head and neck.

She roused and looked over at him. He nodded at her silently and then turned his attention to the plain halberd lying on his blankets on his side of the tent. “What’s this?” He asked.

She jumped to her hind feet. “I got you a-” she started excitedly, but stopped short when she saw him carrying a new halberd of his own. “-I got you... a new halberd…” she finished quietly. The halberd he held in his orange claw was far more expensive than the one she had bought—heavy, sleek, with an ornate handle.

Blutgang was silent, and she felt a new lump rise in her throat. “Oh, how stupid of me. I should’ve known that you’d want to get a new weapon of your own.” Her voice quivered and she clenched her jaw, wondering again just why she was so emotional about it—she had never in her life felt like crying twice in one day, and over something so silly.

Her husband was stiflingly silent. She did not move a muscle, waiting for the embarrassment to end, staring at her feet, which she could not help but notice seemed a little bigger than before. Finally, he spoke: “I’ll sell it in the morning.” With that, he removed his armor and fell asleep on his side of the tent.

Belmardina turned away and coiled up on her blankets. She tried to think of other things to cheer herself up. She thought of her childhood home, of good food and hot baths, but it all seemed so empty and weightless like the air she could not fly on.

So she cried.

For several minutes, silent tears rolled over her red snout. Finally her mind became so thick with sorrow that it took away all thought and she fell into a deep slumber.

In the morning, she heard Blutgang rise, put on his armor, take the halberd and leave. She did not bother to get up herself; she felt useless and small.

Many hours later, she heard him return to the tent. He lifted the flap and the noise of his clawed feet ceased—he was standing still.

She could feel his eyes on her.

Maybe he’ll send me home now. She thought. He’s tired of me. I’ve been no help at all to him. He only needed me to get that gold and now it’s time to go.

She heard his claws scratch closer to her, and he bent, leaving something next to her head. Finally, she opened her eyes to see a large package next to her, wrapped in plain brown paper. She looked up at her husband, “What’s this?” She asked meekly.

“For you.” He smiled.

She was in shock as her trembling claws ripped the paper clumsily from the box and opened the lid beneath. She pulled three new outfits from within. They were different outdoorsy styles—tunics and robes suitable for a travelling woman. They were made to endure weather of any kind but they also happened to be wonderfully embroidered. She was speechless. She climbed into one of the robes—the one with a pink sash and transformed back into a human.

She felt the smooth fabric rest against her rough skin and she stared down at it as if it were a dream about to vanish. Finally, she spoke; “This is—Blutgang, thank you so much. But you didn’t need to buy me anything. These are worth far more than the halberd I bought you, I can tell.” She looked up at him.

He still had a smile on as he replied, “But they were worth about the same for the one I bought.” He held out the plain halberd she had bought him. “Such a sturdy halberd gifted by a wife is far more loyal than one gifted by oneself.”

This time the tears came to her eyes without her fighting them. Without thinking, she threw open her arms and flew toward him. To her surprise and joy, he opened his arms as well and he held her close in a warm embrace, despite the heavy armor he wore standing between them.