Exhausted, the dragon collapsed upon the beach. Tides came and went, and the years grew into centuries as he slumbered. The cracks between his scales filled with wind-blown soil and trees began to grow. He woke up on the last full moon, yawned, and looked around a little before falling back to sleep. I can’t help but think he hit a dragony snooze button and soon he’ll be awake for good.
The children grinned at each other. To most, it just looked as though a fog was rolling in, but they knew better. The time was right. Their old dragon friend had returned and was sending smoke signals from his cave.
Above the surface the iris was a tempting beauty, but below, deep in the dark of the soil, she has an underground stem with enough poison to kill an ogre in his sleep. She is a favourite of assassins and witches, so be wary of those who grow them in their garden. Or befriend them, which might be wiser, after all.
Legend has it mermaids like to frolic in the warm waters where a sunbeam meets the sea, but I’ve never been able to swim fast enough to meet them there…
“Don’t worry, little fella. My feet are wet too. I never could resist a mud puddle.”
She could daydream for hours about what life might be like inside a moon shell. Could a wee library be tucked away in there? Were there tiny gems hidden deep inside by ancient pirates? Would she get dizzy, living in a spiral like that?
He’d left her for his metamorphosis. He didn’t expect her to forgive him, but he was here, now, and he would cling to her door forever if need be; however long it took to for her to answer. Just as long as he could beg her forgiveness and know, at least, that he tried.
It had taken all night, but the sail was mended. The fairies blessed it with dew and the hobgoblins gave it a stubborn streak so deep even the gentlest of breezes would whip it into a frenzy and send the ship speeding through the water. The sailors thanked them for their gifts and left to seek their next adventure on the terrible midnight seas.
He did not consider himself an every day sort of plant. He was a juggler of dewdrops, a magician of moisture, an enchanter of aqua. His dearest dream was to run away and join the circus…as soon as he learned how to run.
Jennifer Shelby 