“Oh no,” she answered immediately and emphatically. She certainly did not want there to be any confusion about that. “He is most definitely not my pet. He is a foul-mouthed, irritating and rude leprechaun that needed to be taught a lesson.”
She sucked in a breath, and burst out indignantly, “He spit at me.”
Looking up at the strong features of her rescuer, she asked, “What else was I to do? When someone is very bad, they should be punished, should they not?” Jeannie tilted her head curiously to the side. “He spit at me.”
In contrast to the behavior of the ill-natured leprechaun, this man was standing ready to defend her. What a wonderful person! If he was not standing in front of her, she would have hugged him. Then she could not help herself. Her arms went around him, careful to leave his sword arm free, she embraced him and rested her cheek for a moment against his shoulder. “You are most brave, but I do not think he needs to be run through. Perhaps kicked, but not stabbed.”