[The Ruling Ring]

"Should wonder what I'll change into," Drago thought to himself as Ellie led him upstairs, calling directions for supper over her shoulder to Champignonne.

Ellie steered him into the room meant for him.

"I'll wait outside," she smiled. "You just ought to change out of those wet things, before you catch your death!" so saying, she pulled to door shut, to give him some privacy.

Drago sighed, grinning to himself at the friendship Ellie had shown him. He slung his damp pack off his back, onto the bed in front of him, opening it and pulling out an equally damp, but still cleaner shirt and a pair of trousers. He unfolded them, spreading them out flat on the bed, moving his pack to the side.

"It's a bit of a shame Ellie can't see this," Drago muttered, bringing the palm of his hand down just above the top left corner of the gray shirt, slowly moving his hand downward, concentrating on what he'd learned.

As he moved his hand, the clothes grew dry--and warm, as if they'd just been washed and dried by the fire, like his mother used to do, in wintertime.

Completing his task with the shirt and performing the same operation on the trousers, Drago quickly made the transition into the dry clothes. Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Drago looked up, stuffing the dirty clothes back into his bag, running his fingers through his hair, which was drying with the warmth of the inn.

Ellie entered at his bidding.

"I wondered what you'd change into, so I thought that I might as the innkeeper--," she broke off, looking at Drago, cleaner and dry, standing at the foot of the bed, looking over at her with a smile at her consideration.