Fishlegs was very fond of all dragons. Moreover, he was convinced that they only attacked when provoked or scared. Feeding could be a scary time for the uninitiated, but as long as you kept away from their food, they were perfectly lovely creatures. He knew that dogs reacted the same way too. Especially where there food was involved.
So he waited, patiently taking the time rest and catch some sun with Meatlug. The grass in the meadow was wild and tall in patches.
When he heard a rustling he turned and looked. The rustling stopped with the quiet crunching of a grass being flattened. He saw a scaly tail flick agitatedly from side to side, before settling down.
Deliberately, he turned his back on the noise and went back to scratching his dragon behind the ears. The rustling returned getting closer and closer to him. He kept calm as he guessed it was less than 10 feet away.
When Meatlug groaned in pleasure, hearing a snap. He glared past Fishlegs ready and willing to fight for his rider. But a steadying hand on the back of his neck settled the dragon. The huff of hot breath set the hair on the nape of his neck twitching.
With his heart racing, and on the verge of fainting, he turned slowly to see the new dragon.
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