I'm trying to end this, but It's taking more time than I thought

"Old men like old whiskey, old women like desserts." I said that. Yesterday. You can quote me.

(If you just got here, go back to the post entitled Just Passing Time to find the story's start.)


Everyone who pays attention to such things knows that dragons are the most sensitive and least aggressive creatures of all the cold blooded species; the Bush family from Texas, of course, being lodged solidly at the other end of that reptile scale. Having somehow taken only half the evolutionary journey from dinosaur to bird, dragons have spent the countless eons and ages until this one soaring through the skies and peering from high places at the small wonders that occurred below. It wasn't until mankind took flight themselves in their marvelous, but deadly creations that dragons realized there was about them now a creature who could conceivably threaten their very existence. Prior to mankind's airborne prowess there had been little conflict between the two species apart from the occasional scrap with foolhardy, iron clad, sword wielding idiots. These never went well for the humans but you wouldn't know that to hear them tell it. Even before the dreadful moment when the first dragon was shot from the air, the gentle creatures had become more reclusive and nocturnal and so limiting their presence to human eyes that they had become mostly the stuff of legend. Only in the densest rural and uninhabited of earth's private places were you likely to encounter any of these great beasts or, as in the case of Laughsalot, actually befriend one. Facebook searches for dragons always proved futile.

Fearful was not really so. That was merely the name Laughsalot had given her, having mistaking her natural dragon reticence for shyness. Fearful's actual name, that is, the one given by her parents, was Klaxglygen which, roughly translated to English would be Eats Tubas, a moniker seeming so unlikely to be correct that we will just ignore it and go with Fearful. Fearful was, in fact, very brave, her friendship with Laughsalot the proof. Seeing him rush towards her now - a testament to his own bravery - had her dragon adrenals on power load and she was ready for a fight. Using her long curved talons she snatched Laughsalot to her breast and held him struggling there. She was trying to tell him to be calm, be cool, and chill out, she had everything under control, but to old Laughsalot it all just sounded like a NASCAR pile up close up. His intent had been to shoo Fearful away and he had no plan B. Alrighty then, he thought realizing he was unhurt and finally relaxing, let's just see what happens next.

Fearful had no Plan B either but that was of little matter. Her A Plan was good enough. Using her laser accurate spit fire technique, she scorched an area of about fifty yards all around to better see her adversary and there he was, just beyond the burn area, fleeing into the jungle. That is, if by fleeing I mean falling, rising, falling, rising, cursing and like that. His cider flasks, a sort of hard canvas affair, were afire and the Lord was swatting at them as he ran, trying to douse the flames and, well, to him, save the day. His efforts were to no avail though, as the heat, reaching the volatile liquid sent it exploding into a burst of white fire and Flatulence was forced to abandon them. It goes without saying at this point that he was truly and, given his rank, royally, pissed.