Peach #1 + raspberries.
Author: Faeiri
Challenge: Peach #1 (The oldest trick in the book.)
Extra: Fresh raspberries (Titan, the moon.)
Word Count: 647
Rating: PG
Notes: Hi, everyone! I figured I'd post here, finally. I have no idea where this story is going, though.
Sorry if the cut doesn't work.
It was a very strange dragon, of a type that he hadn’t identified before. At first, it seemed to belong to fire: its scales were a bright, lava red. But as it curled toward him, clawed feet larger than his torso clacking against the stone, it seemed to shake with every step. There was something liquid about it, less like lava than water. Perhaps it was something new, born of a union of…
He analyzed the beast’s nature, taking careful notes of every shine of a tooth, every yellow detail of its serpentine eyes, every fold in gracefully sharp wings, and desperately tried not to think about being probably about to die.
It snorted, a jet of sunny air propelled from its nose, and he tentatively raised an arm.
“Hi,” he called. Maybe, with monosyllables, his voice would be less likely to crack. The dragon took a step closer.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” He gave a jerky wave. “I’d shake your hand, but I would rather not, you know, be impaled on one of your talons. Those are marvelous talons, by the way. They look almost like obsidian.”
It lazily blinked its eyes.
“Actually, come to think of it,” he said, “I’d really rather not be impaled on anything at all. Especially your teeth.” The dragon yawned. “Yes, I see you teeth there! I mean, I’m sure you have excellent mouth care, I saw those beautiful pearly whites, very splendid, do you have a dentist you could refer me to because my wisdom teeth are starting to grow in and--but anyway, I could appreciate them, the teeth, much better if you would. Not have me on the inside of them, thank you.”
When it opened its mouth again, he was fairly certain that it wasn’t a yawn. It looked more like clenching its jaw.
“I mean, not to be presumptuous about anything, hah! And besides--I don’t think I would be a very good meal to something as much of a titan as you.” He was doing less than grasping at straws, by this point. If he and the dragon were drawing straws, the dragon would have torn all of them to pieces, leaving him with a firm handful of nothing. “Look at this, sir. Not even any meat on here. I’m fairly certain that I don’t have any muscles. I’m just a big lump of…magically animated noodles, I believe, not sure who managed to put that together.” He waved an arm around for emphasis. “Um.”
The dragon’s head was drawing dangerously close to him by this point. It smelled of fire and a familiar stone and something otherworldly entirely. The jets of air from its nostrils, at this distance, were decidedly uncomfortable.
“So I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but I am one of those pesky humans who, in fact, is probably not good to murder! Hate to break it to anyone--“ he tried backing away, only to realize the dragon’s tail was now behind him--“not much of a news breaker, personally. I’m more of a news teller. Telling news, stories all day long. That’s me. Resident…well, I’m not. Actually a resident here, so I suppose that expression doesn’t work, does it? Oh dear, your scales are quite well kept, aren’t they? Your pride and joy? Wouldn’t want to…mess those up by, um…”
It did not seem impressed. He was suddenly very certain that it was, now, more likely to kill him, as punishment for sounding like such an idiot. Dragons were patient beasts, but they also had exactly one element, and were, generally, larger. This one had to be special, with a definition of “special” that meant “more likely to kill him”.
His train of thought had run into its own caboose.
“Uh,” he said desperately, his eyes focusing somewhere behind the beast. “Look behind you?”
Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work.
Challenge: Peach #1 (The oldest trick in the book.)
Extra: Fresh raspberries (Titan, the moon.)
Word Count: 647
Rating: PG
Notes: Hi, everyone! I figured I'd post here, finally. I have no idea where this story is going, though.
Sorry if the cut doesn't work.
It was a very strange dragon, of a type that he hadn’t identified before. At first, it seemed to belong to fire: its scales were a bright, lava red. But as it curled toward him, clawed feet larger than his torso clacking against the stone, it seemed to shake with every step. There was something liquid about it, less like lava than water. Perhaps it was something new, born of a union of…
He analyzed the beast’s nature, taking careful notes of every shine of a tooth, every yellow detail of its serpentine eyes, every fold in gracefully sharp wings, and desperately tried not to think about being probably about to die.
It snorted, a jet of sunny air propelled from its nose, and he tentatively raised an arm.
“Hi,” he called. Maybe, with monosyllables, his voice would be less likely to crack. The dragon took a step closer.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” He gave a jerky wave. “I’d shake your hand, but I would rather not, you know, be impaled on one of your talons. Those are marvelous talons, by the way. They look almost like obsidian.”
It lazily blinked its eyes.
“Actually, come to think of it,” he said, “I’d really rather not be impaled on anything at all. Especially your teeth.” The dragon yawned. “Yes, I see you teeth there! I mean, I’m sure you have excellent mouth care, I saw those beautiful pearly whites, very splendid, do you have a dentist you could refer me to because my wisdom teeth are starting to grow in and--but anyway, I could appreciate them, the teeth, much better if you would. Not have me on the inside of them, thank you.”
When it opened its mouth again, he was fairly certain that it wasn’t a yawn. It looked more like clenching its jaw.
“I mean, not to be presumptuous about anything, hah! And besides--I don’t think I would be a very good meal to something as much of a titan as you.” He was doing less than grasping at straws, by this point. If he and the dragon were drawing straws, the dragon would have torn all of them to pieces, leaving him with a firm handful of nothing. “Look at this, sir. Not even any meat on here. I’m fairly certain that I don’t have any muscles. I’m just a big lump of…magically animated noodles, I believe, not sure who managed to put that together.” He waved an arm around for emphasis. “Um.”
The dragon’s head was drawing dangerously close to him by this point. It smelled of fire and a familiar stone and something otherworldly entirely. The jets of air from its nostrils, at this distance, were decidedly uncomfortable.
“So I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but I am one of those pesky humans who, in fact, is probably not good to murder! Hate to break it to anyone--“ he tried backing away, only to realize the dragon’s tail was now behind him--“not much of a news breaker, personally. I’m more of a news teller. Telling news, stories all day long. That’s me. Resident…well, I’m not. Actually a resident here, so I suppose that expression doesn’t work, does it? Oh dear, your scales are quite well kept, aren’t they? Your pride and joy? Wouldn’t want to…mess those up by, um…”
It did not seem impressed. He was suddenly very certain that it was, now, more likely to kill him, as punishment for sounding like such an idiot. Dragons were patient beasts, but they also had exactly one element, and were, generally, larger. This one had to be special, with a definition of “special” that meant “more likely to kill him”.
His train of thought had run into its own caboose.
“Uh,” he said desperately, his eyes focusing somewhere behind the beast. “Look behind you?”
Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work.