*head thwaks against wall* My friend told me she sent me the pictures from our trip to The Boiling Crab but they never appeared in my in-box! I can promise you that I will carry my camera with me more often in order to put something on here besides words.
I'll conclude today's drollness with half of my story's prologue.
The valloian lifted the jar while keeping an eye out for the sentry outside. His eyes glimmered in the moonlight. Dark skin and quills shivered as wingbeats sounded from the cold air outside. The small dragon had managed to make it out of the mines without being caught, and was holding his item of interest. His childish round face brightened at the odd, dusted oval shaped container in his palm.
What is this? He thought. Even though he had never expected to turn up at the dusted mines he thought something was amiss with the delicate glass protecting whatever was inside. Is it something some dragon had left behind after his shift? Maybe there’s a poisonous bug or snake inside! It was too hard to tell with the rusting jar and dirty glass concealing the contents within. Maybe he could sneak back home and open it up there? The child thought to himself, brainstorming hiding places for the mysterious item.
There was a rustle outside, the telltale rattle of quills being carried by the soft breeze to the dragon's hiding spot. Hopefully the spot he had chosen now would hide him! There was no way that the dragon wanted to get caught outside at this time of night. Soon the sounds died down and the hideaway felt safer. He crept out from behind the boulder, opened his leathery wings, and took off, the jar safe in his talons while his arms were busy flapping away at the chilly air.
He made it home as quickly as possible, careful to sneak in the back way, where Ritio would be, keeping an eye out for anyone who came into his master's room to check on him.
The butler called with a course, whispered voice as the sneak-away’s wingbeats disturbed the silent peace. "Master? Come quickly!"
"I'm coming!" He replied, landing on the grass covered ground and then hopping through the window. "Thanks!"
"Master, as the only one who knows of your nightly flights I suggest you be more careful! You’re only nine years old and too young to be doing this sort of reckless absurdity," the butler addressed as he took the jar and placed it on the table next to the door like is was a normal thing.
"Nah... you worry too much. You get some sleep, and go ahead and eat my pumpkin pudding, you need it more than me." The child smiled.
"You are too kind Master, I most certainly enjoyed the trifle amount that the chef gave to me at dinner. Night sir." And with that, the groomed red dragon excused himself from the room, but not without tucking the dracling into bed. The boy pulled the covers further over his head like an exhausted kitten snuggling into his mother's soft belly.
Ritio closed the door to let the sleepy dragon get his much needed rest. When the last rays of light from the hall were cut off, the dracling jumped from the bed and grabbed the filthy container in his hands. I wonder... He thought. With a quick thrust against the edge of the table, the jar shattered and bits of glass scattered across the carpeted floor. There were notes of some kind... Symbols of the Val language covered the white parchment. Were they someone's deepest, darkest secrets? Was it a love letter? Maybe it was a novel that never made it to the printing press!
