Friday, August 18, 2017
1. Their food dish is always empty.
2. The mouse gets taken away just as the game was getting interesting.
3. Baths take up so much of the day.
4. There is never enough time to sleep.
5. "The dog gets to go outside; so why can't I?"
6. Fish are a constant torment within their watery fortress.
7. People have this thing about picking up cats. Don't they know cats are allergic to hugs?
8. Cats, for some strange reason, are expected to share the bed with their human. Cats don't share.
9. Attention is not properly given unless all enemies are destroyed. Enemies such as the TV, books, the Internet, and humans not belonging to the cat.
10. Bells on collars.
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
The rabbit is quick and nimble,
While the turtle is steady and slow.
The mice are blind to all they'll find,
When the clock strikes one.
The cows moon for greater heights,
While curds and whey are where spiders set their sights.
Jack, so quick to break his crown,
Finds giants above where beans touched the ground.
The goose tries hard to be a mother hen,
But the tales at nursery-time must end.
Friday, August 11, 2017
1. An imaginary friend.
2. Constantly messy hands.
3. Enough energy to power a small town.
4. A sixth sense which alerts them to when you try to eat something without sharing it with them.
5. A highly selective memory; they can remember that you promised to give them two cookies for snack-time, but forget to pick up their toys even after you've told them five times.
6. The ability to sing every word of their favorite show's theme song.
7. Enough curiosity to kill ten cats, and drive the dog into hiding.
8. An irresistible urge to cut their own hair.
9. Confidence to try new things — unless it's vegetables.
10. The ability to make others happy, just by being themselves.
Wednesday, August 9, 2017
Clayridge dragons are fierce, feral creatures that strike fear in all who have the misfortune to meet them.
But though their claws are sharper than any sword, and their fangs can pierce the moat well made armor, it is their fire that one must avoid.
Hotter than the flames of the emeraldian dragon, and with precision that means the first bout is all they need to engulf their target, clayridge dragons are masters of their inner furnace.
But then, they have to be.
For unlike other species of dragons, the clayridge dragon must be cautious in how often they use their inner fire.
For should they use it too often, then their malleable clay flesh bakes from within, making it ever harder for them to move as every joint stiffens, until the strain of their heavy scales causes their baked insides to crumble.
In the end, nothing is left of a clayridge dragon except for dust-coated scales.
Friday, August 4, 2017
1. Their horns get in the way.
2. The wind steals them whenever the dragon flies.
3. Knights laugh when they see a dragon in a ballcap.
4. Hats catch fire too easily around the hatchlings.
5. They don't fit properly, since no one bothers making hats large enough for a dragon's head.
6. Because princesses get frightfully aggressive if you try taking their headwear, and no dragon wants to explain how they lost an eye to a princess' pointy hat.
7. Villagers never notice them. What's the point of wearing your new hat to a raid, if no one pauses in their screams long enough to compliment how well it matches your scales?
8. Because heroes always assume it's a magical hat, and steal it before you get a chance to wear it.
9. They itch, and no dragon likes having an itchy head.
10. The hat smelled tasty, and dragons get hungry.
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
The stone was polished to a glistening shine, though it would never be seen by human eyes.
No, this magnificent gem would sit in a place of pride deep within a labyrinth of caverns, where bats flew and rats scurried to hide from the crimson terror.
A colossal, scaled beastie, the crimson terror was the local dragon of Fardell, known for his delight in pilfering stones from the farms and towns nearby.
Any stone would do, be it the rarest exotic sapphire or a lump of local red clay. Some of the more cunning villagers had taken to leaving a selection a stones on the road a short distance from their homes, so that when the crimson terror came calling, it would take that instead of destroying buildings in his search.
The crimson terror thought well of these humans, and so kept the charring of roofs to a minimum in places that left him an offering.
Some of the not so cunning humans left unacceptable offerings such as golden-haired maidens.
The crimson terror didn't want maidens with false gold locks. He'd rather have real gold, and so ignored such distasteful offerings.
Still, the crimson terror's collection was quite vast, and though none had yet dared enter his labyrinth, the dragon couldn't help worry that some foolish adventurer might one day seek to claim his hoard.
And so when the crimson terror wasn't out gathering more stones, he was digging; striving with each excavation to make his labyrinth more complex, his hoard ever harder to find, and thus safe from thieving human hands.
For with how precious each stone in his collection was, surely some adventurer would one day come calling.