“Dude, we are not asking the dragon for directions.”
A flushed faced youth smiled, he was already sweating under his heavy armor. All he wanted was a hot meal, a pint of cold ale, and perhaps even a pile of hay to sleep upon. Who was he to sweat speaking with a dragon?
“We totally are, dude,” the youth said, walking toward the dragon. “I’m done with this chivalrous stuff, man.”
“But it’s cheating,” the other youth tagged behind his friend, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We have to find the Princess on our own.”
Purple and metallic, the dragon stood at the edge of a vast garden. A garden where the most adventurous knights would partake in the raspberries, avoiding the giant man-eating spiders, and the birds which could create a maelstrom with the beating of their wings.
“Hear ye, hear ye, oh dragon,” the youth called out, his friend several steps behind.
The dragon turned, talons sharp as garden shears, “Yes, young knight?”
“Have you seen the Princess?” the second youth asked, leaving his fear behind as his belly rumbled.
“Oh, aye, yonder in the house in the trees,” the dragon licked its lips with a large smile.
“Thank ye, oh mighty dragon.” The young knights bowed to the dragon and went toward the immense tree fortress.
“Oh, knights,” the dragon called, “would you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch?”
“Mom, you’re supposed to be a dragon! Dragons don’t feed knights, they eat them!”