Bit by bit Golden waves fell further from the shore. They left mussels, clams and even a few rare and delectable abalone in their wake.
After sending Perun away on the maiden voyage of a questionably sea-worthy raft, four greedy little black and white dragons not only ate but collected as many shellfish as they could; throwing what they couldn't fit in their stomachs into a big pile.
Unbeknownst to them a timid grey creature watched from the safety of the sandstone.
They don't seem so bad, She thought as they rushed back and forth between waves, sometimes tripping on their own feet and face-planting in the sand, or missing a sleeper and getting flipped head over tail in the surge.
A whiff of shellfish caught in her nose and it made her stomach growl ferociously. She eyed the growing pile.
Maybe I should just ask them. They have more than they can eat anyway. They might not mind sharing...
She looked beyond the food to the setting sun.
Another long night was on the approach, and that was something to tremble over.
It wasn't the cold but the sounds that got to her. Creepy sounds like hoots and howls, wails and snarls. The worst ones were none-descript; strange loud thuds, pounding feet, scraping that sounded like claws on rock. Sometimes they seemed very near. Once she was startled awake by wingbeats that whipped sand around her, but when she looked up there was nothing in the sky. And there was no one to turn to and ask what it was, no one to tell her it was all right, no one to hug, to keep her safe and warm.
The black and white dragons were throwing shells at each other now, not a care in the world. They're not afraid, She thought jealously. I bet they have some nice safe place to live that's warm and full of food... with other...whatever, they-are. I wish I... had... a place like...
The young dragon shook herself back to reality. What am I thinking?!? They knocked out and tied up a full grown skrill! Who knows what they might do to me, especially if there are more.
Her stomach gargled again and little by little she edged out of the rocks. It's only for the food, she told herself over and again, just the food.
"It's getting late, Captain," Quinnley noted a half-sunken sun. "Should we cut our loses and collect the spoils?"
"Shoo! Shoo!" Ensign was bouncing around their pile of shellfish chasing gulls away.
"Rrrrrrr...! Just... A few... more... minutes..." He gasped. "GRRRRRRR! I-almost-have him!"
The captain had been working at an abalone shell the past half hour. He'd gotten his claws under the sides and was pulling with all his might, only to lose grip and careen backwards into the ocean.
"HUUUGHH. You win today Barney, but I will be back!" The dragon sat waist-deep in the swell, pointing an accusatory claw at the abalone. He pounded his fist. "Next time. Alright let's go. Come on Usto."
"A-right," Usto put the last finishing touches on an enormous sand castle. He slapped his paws together, looking it over in satisfaction... before smashing it flat with a piece of driftwood.
"Now Usto!"
"I'm comin!"
"Boys you've done some fine work today." The captain encouraged as they filled their paws. "An enemy vanquished, a critter safe, and 'rare clams' as spoils of war."
"It was an exceptionally successful enterprise, wasn't it?"
"Mmm-hmm!" Usto filled his stomach as well as his paws.
YOU ARE READING
OPERATION: RAINMAKER
FantasíaHer sides burned, her lungs were on fire. Thunder crackled in the sky and perhaps if it wasn't day there might have been a flash to accompany it, but that's not what frightened her now. This story is inspired by the Wardenrain, a creation of talent...
