The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. We’ve all seen it before now. Haven’t ye lads. The slowly flickering candle. It brings to life the olden days of bygone years and stories long forgotten.
Gary, My Father
My dad grew up on a farm, the youngest son of 22 children in Lovell, Wyoming. Growing up in hardened Wyoming you had to be pretty tough. Growing up the youngest son, you had to be tougher than all the other brothers with their demands, teasing and roughhousing. My grandfather’s first wife had passed away leaving behind 11 children. To help take care of those children, he remarried Vera Allred who had a little girl from a previous marriage and they had 10 more children. Hence, the household of 22 and wide-eyed looks on people’s faces as I tell his family story.
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley,” thought Jack. “Nor were there many who allowed riders,” Fie said as they sped through the clouds. This treasure haul was a small one, but rewarding. It felt good to be apprenticed to a Dragon Master even if the lessons were not held regularly. It made it all the better to realize he had been entrusted with such a daring deed as going to the treasure-filled chasm. Mind you a person had to know where and what to look to find it. Notwithstanding the treasures a person could find–not everyone dared to go there–unless they had a halfway decent dragon. And Fierra was just that.