"Get away from her, Berk," I said in a hushed whisper.She looked between my dwarf friend and me, fake astonishment on her face. "Berk, darling, you di...n't tell me you knew my dear cousin Mintë." Mintë," said Berk, words slightly slurred by drink. His eyes were red. I doubted he'd gone to bed at all. "I kind of like it."Gods no. My knees went weak. Tears stung at my eyes; I wanted to die. I left home to escape that nickname and the judgement it represented.My name was Mistë, not Mintë. The words. Charger and I walked the beach on that island for hours and hours. He loved to chase birds, play with stray balls left behind by children and generally be a puppy. His antics gave me endless hours of pleasure.We were walking the day everything changed, again.It was a Friday afternoon. The sky was perfectly clear. It was hot, but the breeze cut through the heat and humidity, making it just manageably comfortable. Charger and I left shortly before lunchtime and headed south, so that by the time. More

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