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" The man kicked a few wayward bottles back onto the pile."Why do you drink so much?" It's a long story, kid."Before the warrior could explain further, a pop of displaced air announced the arrival of someone dressed in brown robes. The ghost felt a rush of hope. This was a Poet. And from his robes, he must be a strong one."Gareth! Thank the Gods you are here!" the youthful Poet rushed forward to clasp the Warrior's arm. Then backed away, wrinkling his nose. "You're drunk, again! I can't believe it! You know what Pteri would say..." I am NOT drunk," the warrior interrupted, "though I was until recently. A distinction in tenses which I plan on rendering moot." Not now! We've got troubles!" The Poet hopped about waving his arms. "There's a dragon at the gate! You have to help me!"Gareth struggled to focus on the quickly moving healer."Dragon? Impossible, they never leave their cave. Almost never." Well, this one didn't have any choice in the matter. I summoned it." The Poet managed to. Other than the distance of me living in the country and Bill in town we were always together whenever we could arrange it. That little Honda motorbike of his sure put on a lot of miles. By the time our second Christmas came, we had been together a year and a half and we both knew we were part of the others family. When the realization of that hit home, we sat down and had a serious discussion. That was the night we seriously promised ourselves exclusively to each other, even though we had been since the day we met. It felt like an engagement for us, and Bill made me so happy when he said after my eighteenth birthday, we would have to seriously go looking for a ring. Staying at each others house for weekends and such was the expected norm for us by then. Both sets of parents were comfortable with our commitment to wait on being physical until we were finished school so they weren’t worried we would do anything rash. The winter passed and I was at Bill’s place most weekends and.
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