"What?" Ashton blinked, taken back. His surprise and confusion was evident in his face as he studied Barclay, his eyes slowly narrowing. "I give you my gold, Barclay. You must accept it!" His voice was rising in volume, bouncing off the walls some. He forced Barclay to close his hand around the ring and then held that hand tightly in his own, not letting go.
"What is the meaning of this? I give it to you and you will accept!" It was the best gift. It meant everything. Why would Barclay not accept? Why would he not want something so great? Perhaps it wasn't great enough. Ashton knew the hoard he'd inherited from his parents had been much larger, and perhaps Barclay felt it was inadequate, which made the dragon huff and grow agitated. "It is gold, Barclay!"