The Dragon

"I'm gonna pet it."

"You realise that's a dragon?"

"A dragon that's about to get pet."

I'm making a valiant effort at protesting, but this animal fanatic has turned a deaf ear towards my cries. The dragon's hooded emerald eyes narrow with suspicion as Sage takes one bold step after the other, entranced by the silky black scales and wings the size of curtains. A puff of smoke comes barreling out of one nostril, sending me further back into the shadows of the towering pine trees, but Sage lets out a mere giggle and holds out a hand.

Reluctantly, the dragon nuzzles its ginormous head against her, and within seconds the roaring, fire-breathing beast, king of all the mythical creatures ever known (just not seen) to mankind has evolved into a playful puppy, thumping its tail against the ground. A mini earthquake follows with each thump. I'm hit with a shower of falling branches and leaves. Sage doesn't notice this. She doesn't notice anything but the dragon in her arms. She's in love.

I'm not sure if she remembers that we were tasked with the duty of killing this dragon.