Cookies

Sometimes, what makes up a dragon's hoard isn't the kind of object that can last centuries.
Some like to hoard pets, because of the love and affection such small critters bring.
Others prefer fresh-cut flowers, or snowflakes that melt at the first hint of spring.
These kinds of hoards take constant maintenance, more so than those of jewels and treasures of gold.
But for one dragon, his maintaining his hoard meant staying on friendly terms with the local bakers.
Every Tuesday right around three, the local bakers would wheel cooling racks filled with cookies out of their shops. No matter the weather, they would all line up along the street and look up as the sound of wing beats filled the air.
They would watch with startling calm as a bright orange dragon landed on the paved road, careful not to bump any cars as he folded his wings.
"They smell spectacular," the dragon said in a rumbling growl that had once frightened the bakers, before they realized it was the dragon's way of vocalizing his excitement.
"And you've brought the payment?" One of the bakers asked, as it was his turn to be their voice.
"Yes, yes," the dragon twisted his head back on his long neck, gently releasing a large sack from where it rested between his wings. "Rare spices, herbs, and the like. Easy enough to find, though I'll never understand why you care for such things."
The spokesman for the bakers shook his head with a bemused smile. "They're useful for our businesses, and a better trade than live goats."
"The goats could have been roasted," the dragon said after setting the sack down.
A few bakers approached the sack and began to empty it, while the spokesman for the bakers gave a soft laugh.
"But the goats wouldn't taste as good in a cookie."
"That is true," the dragon sighed. "Goat cookies never seem to turn out sweet enough. So if silly plants are what you lot want in exchange for such delectable sweets, than that's what I'll bring."
Once the sack was emptied of herbs and spices, the bakers filled it with the cookies from their cooling racks. They often wondered about the sack, for despite the rough appearance, nothing from within it was ever damaged.
Still, they didn't need such a magical sack when dealing with their regular customers.
Sack filled to the brim, the dragon drew it closed and settled it back securely between his wings.
"As always, a scrumptious exchange," the dragon rumbled, dipping his head to each baker.
They nodded in return, and watched as the dragon lifted off with sure wing beats and disappeared into the blue sky.
"You know, when I got my shop here, I didn't expect a dragon to become my main spice supplier." A young baker named Tom said, still with a slightly bewildered glaze to his eyes. He'd only been a part of the Wyrm Road bakeries for little over a month now.
"None of us expected it," the spokesman for the bakers said as he shook his head, "but who are we to argue with a dragon when he wants to be friendly?"