The Dragon's Last Hope

Chapter 3

When I wake up in the morning, I instantly jerk into a sitting position and my mind races to remember where I am. 

I've read books where the main character wakes up and can't remember where they are, and I've never understood that until now; even when I was on the streets I always remembered the tragic events leading to where I was. 

'Probably because I never felt safe enough before to sleep like a log, and some part of my mind was always awake and intent on survival,' that small, innocent part of me thinks, and I can't help but agree with it, surprisingly.

Slowly, my memories return to me. They are so unbelievable they must be a dream, a figment of my overactive imagination meant to torture me by dangling a small sliver of hope in front of me, like a cat toy.

But no, it couldn't have all been a dream, because I'm in a tent. And last I checked, I never owned a tent living on the streets, and this one is too spacious, and the ground to uneven to be concrete.

My mind reluctantly accepts that yesterday wasn't a dream or hallucination, and that it did, in fact, actually happen. I can feel that small, traitorous part of me spreading excitement and anticipation for this new adventure, and I quickly attempt to stomp it out, but to no avail. It doesn't matter anyway; eventually reality will set in and it will realize how serious things are.

I get up out of my sleeping bag and instantly want to cuddle back in, because, while the air isn't freezing, it's probably about 50 or 60 degrees out, and living in Florida I'm used to warmer mornings. However, I resist the urge to climb back into my sleeping bag and stand up, stretching. I can hear leaves rustling in the breeze and birds chirping a good morning. But out here, there are bird calls I've never heard before, and some so strange I doubt they could possibly exist on Earth. Intrigued, my imagination starts to wonder what bird could go with what chirp.

One bird sounds like a deeper, slower version of a police siren. In my head I picture a large bird with a big round chest, with blue feathers and a white outline of a star on its chest.

Another sounds almost like a tiny, cute little sneeze, but instead of achoo it sounds like achow with a slight twang at the end. My imagination immediately creates a tiny bird version of Sneezy, with brown feathers, a red tail, a small white bird beard and even a little blue cloth hat on its head. I giggle at the thought of encountering that bird, but upon realizing my innocent childish part of me managed to take control, I stop and frown. This world is having very negative effects on me. If things continue, the child in me might get free, and then... Well, who knows what sort of emotional whirlwind I'll have to endure. I might even get hurt in the process, and I can't let that happen.

Interrupting my deeps thoughts suddenly comes another odd bird call, that child me can't resist. It sounds like a mix between a cat and a dog, and it goes meo-woof. Before it can start up my imagination on the task of creating a picture of the bird, I stop it in its tracks. But then, the sneaky little thing, it slips around me and instead piques my curiosity.

If there are dragons here, what other mythical creatures could there be? Unicorns? Mermaids? Griffons? Perhaps we'll even encounter some on our travels. 

Oh! Even better, we might encounter something never before imagined on Earth, something no one has ever thought to create! Just thinking about all the new and intriguing creatures there might be gets my blood flowing and gives me a thirst for adventure. I've been betrayed.

As I think of this, I notice the distinct mouth-watering aroma of delectable food, and hear someone outside. All thoughts of mysterious creatures and traitorous mind disperse like smoke in the wind.