My legs curled, planted on his belly, thrust.The dog snarled, tumbling off my body. The pair of us scrambled to our feet, brush rustling. I went into ... low crouch, spitting fury, blood welling from scratches across my torso, each line burning pain.“I need to be pretty for Master!” I yowled as the dog lunged.Metal fleshed.A throwing dagger took the hound in the side of the neck. It crashed into a twitching heap before me. Master’s short sword rasped as he ripped it out of its sheath. He whirled. " Good for you. Um, Jo-Jo, um, do you really have to go to Hertfordshire next weekend. It's ... er ... just that I ... um ... don't think I can wait a fortnight to see you again."That floored Joanna and she was unable to speak."Jo-Jo?" Um, sorry, Simon. You ... you took me by surprise. I ... um ... I..." I mean it, Jo-Jo. I ... I can't stop thinking about you." S-same here. Oh, Simon, isn't this all a bit quick?" I s'pose but..." We're both as bad as each other. Perhaps we ought to leave it a. More

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