Temeraire and Captain William Laurence

It's a beautiful night. Small campfires dot the Milliways woods, and the crisp scent of salt floats through the air from the inlet. The stars are glimmering and lovely, right up until they are blotted out by an enormous winged shape. Huge and black, it is as though part of the forest has simply decided to grow wings and stroll towards the lake, the ground shaking with each slow step. Those with the correct angle and presence of mind might recognize the shape as a truly massive dragon, approximately the size of the ship which once floated in the Milliways lake, glossy black and sporting a handsome ruff about his chin and cheeks.

For his part, Temeraire is too busy working through a translation of The Trident of Albion into Mandarin Chinese to notice directly that he has not, as he planned, returned to his pavilion after his visit with Mei – at least, not until a glint of light on water catches his eye and all thoughts of both composition and translation leave his head.

"Laurence?" he calls, worried. His tail lashes at the forest edge, accidentally knocking down some trees and sending the demon bunnies into a perfect frenzy of terror.