A Dragon With A Cold
Pyra was a small red dragon. She lived in a cave above the village of Briel.
Most days, Pyra was a quiet, polite neighbour. She did not eat the village sheep. She did not steal the village gold. She mostly slept on warm rocks and read books that travellers traded for safe passage.
But today, Pyra had a cold.
A dragon's sneeze is a small flame.
The first sneeze, at dawn, set fire to a small bush outside her cave. The villagers heard the noise and woke up nervously.
The second sneeze, an hour later, set fire to the bush again. (Some of it had still been smoking.)
By the third sneeze, three small bushes were now blackened, and a thin column of smoke was rising over the hill.
The villagers rang the alarm bell.
Sir Anya, the local knight, came riding up on her grey horse. She was carrying her sword. But she was also carrying — the villagers noticed — a small pot of soup and a folded blanket.
"We sent for a knight," said the mayor. "We didn't ask for soup."
"Pyra is a friend," said Sir Anya. "I think she's just sick. I'm going up to check."
The mayor was very surprised, but did not stop her.