![]() ![]() For once I didn't think that light was related to its soul. It breathed in deeply, a golden glow growing in its chest. ![]() But at least the dragon didn't smell as bad as unicorns. Because really, what kind of self-respecting, trash can-scrabbling mythical dragon wouldn't talk? I was equal parts terrified and annoyed. "Nae, child, I am no wee beast." The air tasted like charcoal as its voice slid out, high and smooth and ageless, momentarily shocking me even more than the fact that there was a dragon hanging around behind the trash cans. Its face was almost wolfish, a long snout cut by two thick tusks jutting out and curling up over the lips. Instead of the mini masked bandits, I was greeted by a pale, serpentine body with feathers raised like spikes along its spine and shoulders. Which made my task to scare raccoons out of the alley behind the diner much more complicated. ![]() PINK GOES WITH EVERYTHING Here's the thing about dragons: I know absolutely nothing whatsoever about them. ![]()
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