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One of my first acts as a free dragon had been to get a person killed. How very human of me.
My armor had protected the rest of me from the fall. Of course, I’d landed on my feet. Cats had learned how to fall from dragons (probably).
He looked paler than normal, but otherwise in reasonably decent condition (apart from still having only two legs and a two-holed thumb on his face instead of a real nose that could actually smell things).
Fresh meat was medicinal for dragons. I hoped he would find a goat. Rabbits were too little. The only thing better would be if he encountered a mountain lion, and it ate him. Then I could eat the mountain lion.
After all my waiting, it turned out that humans tasted like chicken. What a disappointment.
It wasn’t an elegant pose; I probably resembled a dog trying to climb onto a table to grab dinner scraps, except my jaws weren’t cute.
My claws finished the work, peeling back the planks the way the humans ate oranges (I liked them too, except I hated the outer skin, and nobody would peel them for me).
After completing her examination, Valis backed up to the edge of the cave, from where she seemed to just watch me, humming an annoying melody that reminded me of frogs trying to whistle.
Valis returned with the Mitar root after midday. It smelled like a mix between Prince Dayne’s piss and rotten leviathan flesh.
“Legends are made swiftly, but spread slowly,” he muttered to himself. Whatever. Fools are made slowly but die swiftly.
I’d been around humans long enough to know that they were happiest living in their fantasies.
I feel called out...
