Sammy Jo

The Day of the Dragon

The light had barely begun to sneak over the steep barren mountains to the east when the dragon's slumber was disturbed by a screeching cry. He let out an exasperated puff, a cloud of wispy smoke twining away from his nostrils. Dawn was far too early to be rising, the air still frigid with little indication that any other forms of life had begun their day. The dragon rolled over, seeing no reason not to go back to sleep for a few hours. His eyes fluttered closed.