A Picnic Story: For The Love Of A Dragon

I love a picnic story. I hope you like this one.

“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.” I grumble, laying out the blanket.

“It’s not my fault you’re the size of a house, I got the biggest blanket I could.”

She snorted scornfully, planting her rump on the farthest corner of the blanket in sullen protest of my words. I sighed, laying down my pack and opening it.

“Don’t be like that,” I scolded, pulling out my meal.

“It isn’t becoming for a lady.”

She shot me an amused look, curling a lip slightly as if to say, “Really? You’re playing that card with me?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tried again.

“Let’s not fight, Skee. I just want us to have a nice relaxing meal together. We can do that, can’t we? One day without any arguments, nobody flies off in a rage, and nothing goes up in flame. Can we do that?”

She shrugged a shoulder, staring pointedly at me.

“I’ll do my best too, Skee. Promise. Look, I even got your favorite.”

I reached into my pack, withdrawing a bright red handful.

Her sky-blue eyes lit up, and I smiled. I always knew how to bring her around.

“Here, dig in.”

Image Of A Dragon Breathing Fire: A Picnic Story

For The Love Of A Dragon

I tossed it at her, and she caught it elegantly, downing it with a snap and a gulp.

“Fresh from the deer, just like you like. Now help me with mine?”

I pulled out a piece I’d carved earlier and speared it on the end of my sword, holding it out to her. Pursing her lips, she blew a delicate stream of flame at the haunch. I sat, the smell of roasting meat making my mouth water as I watched it turn a pleasing brown. When finished, Skee shut her mouth and rested her chin on the blanket. I smiled, rubbing her snout in thanks as I turned to tear into my meal.

A Picnic Story Interuptus

A high, shrill shriek stopped me, inches from a mouthful of delicious roast venison.

I groaned, setting the haunch down. “Really?” I moaned.

“Somebody help! Save me, oh save me!”

I felt a nudge at my side, and I grumbled,

“I don’t want to!”

A harder nudge nearly knocked me over.


I shoved the venison back in my pack.

“But if it gets cold you’re heating it up again!”

“Damsels,” I swore, slinging a leg up over the base of Skee’s glistening white neck.

“I wish you’d just roast them like other dragons sometimes.”

Skee gave a throaty rasp I took to be a laugh of some sort as she spread her wings and took to the sky. Belatedly I thought of the blanket, but I could get another one. Apparently I could not replace the damsel who was being abducted, or so Skee would have me believe. How she became more of a knight in glistening, scaly armor than would ever care to be was another story.

At that particular moment, however, there was a particularly unpleasant looking troll with a delicate maiden slung over its shoulder, and he was just begging to be roasted for interrupting my meal…

But that’s a picnic story of another kind.

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