He sighed at George's comment. "You think it's a great name because you gave it to him. No one would take me serious if they knew you know?" He smirked then, "and I have never harassed animals when I'm drunk."
He glanced to Wrath and smiled. "Just how we get along. And he is an ass. He's also the one who helped raise me, and taught me half the swear words I use on him." He gave a happy grin because he loved sharing this story. And he liked how George always let him.
"Alright, so this happened during our Crusading days. It was a bit after Acre." Not a highlight but still. "We'd gotten to a minor castle and just overtaken it. For some reason that bastard," he motioned to George," decided he should drink all the alcohol in the castle, and only share a little bit with the rest of us. And up until that point I wasn't even sure Saints
could
get drunk. So I don't see him for a good few hours, but I continue making plans. All of a sudden George here walks into the tent, swaying drunk and not able to shut up for the Grace of God."
Shaking his head he gave George a fond look, "and I'm desperately trying to juggle running two kingdoms and George is not helping. Now outside the tent we had a pack mule. For some reason it kept making noise. In the middle of this long spiel George just gets up and asks what the hell that noise is. And at this point I'm a little aggravated so I just tell him it's a dragon."
He chuckled to the memory, "Clearly a bad idea because George jumps up, does that thing where he gets all glowy and races outside while yelling something about Satan and smiting. I am speechless for a moment before I go and fetch him because the whole holy warrior of God thing may just freak the men out, not to mention him killing the poor animal wouldn't be good for anything, so I follow. I find him on his ass in a ditch a few meters before this animal just cursing at it and making it so afraid. I just kind of lost it and just laughed at him."
He shrugged before continuing. "I leave him there because I'm not going near him when he's waving his sword around like that. He wakes up the next day and comes in asking what happened. I tell him and he gets such a guilty look on his face you'd think I told him he'd kicked a puppy or something. He goes back to this mule, and the animal is now terrified of George, and soothes it before deciding the mule is now his. Calls it Winston. He gave George an exasperated look, "made us bury the thing too when it died."
"So thus the tale of Winston the dragon mule was born. It's my duty to tell people he doesn't tell about it. Especially seeing he's got like a million stories about me."