Challenge Corner #15 – Beware of the Dragon

So, my summer has finally begun, and I’ve been celebrating by playing through a bunch of old Spyro games on the PlayStation. Naturally, then, I felt the need to carry the dragon-esque fun over to you guys, in the form of a challenge! The basic challenge this week is incredibly simple; in fact, you’ve already seen it in the title.

– Beware of the dragon.

The possibilities are, as ever, endless – where is the dragon? Why is there a dragon? What will it do if you’re not wary enough? Perhaps it’s not even a literal dragon, but a metaphor – if you’re a poet reading this, I bet you like metaphor. Bring me something awesome!

What’s that? Not enough of a challenge, you say? Well then! We shall have to add some super bonus options!

+ Bonus Points: Include something with feathered wings.

++ Double Bonus Points: The feathers are a major source of irritation.

I hope that’s enough for you to feel good and challenged! Have fun, and I’ll see you next time on Challenge Corner!

Cadi x


Cadi is a Computer Science student from the UK, with hair that keeps changing colour and a mind that keeps changing topic. She writes, doodles, photographs and cooks, and gets far too excited about all of them in turn. Because it's worth getting excited about stuff.

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2 Responses

  1. Hannah says:

    zoe’s egg tooth fell off
    sometime on Wednesday
    between Grant Park
    and Millennium Park,
    and sometime before
    brad kissed her.
    he felt the fire slip out of her
    and she knew
    she wasn’t going to be breaking
    any egg shells

    the world was then
    around her fiber
    flesh and feathers
    she could not shed.

    she held a picture of her mother
    and cried to sleep.

  2. ladcat13 says:

    The small dragon perches on a ledge, high in the mountains. Below her lies a small town, still asleep in the predawn. The light slowly banishes the stars from the sky above her, turning it greyish purple. She feels her heart ache with longing as she thinks of it. She can’t go up yet. Her wings haven’t molted yet, for she is still young. She absently scratches them with her clawed foot. The tiny wings are folded tightly against her back, useless for now. Above her, the cave mouth that is her eyrie seemed a long way up without the ability to fly. She had to strike fast, so that she could eat her kill on the spot and still have time to digest before tackling the climb back up. In the valley, she notices that the cattle are stirring a little. A few get up and shake. They begin to graze, and one wanders towards the woods. She wriggles her hindquarters in anticipation. Her silver scales are dulled with dust, so that as she creeps down the mountainside she is invisible. She sneaks around behind the field, through the woods. As she approaches the herd, she waits patiently for one to wander close. When it does, she is so fast that it hardly has time to bawl before she has dragged it into the woods. She feasts in the wee hours of the morning, before the humans are awake.The cow is more than enough to feed her, but she buries the extra. She must be wary of them, until she is grown. So by getting rid of the excess, she makes her appetite look bigger than it is. She is not big enough to take them on yet, her wings have not molted yet, but fear is a powerful tool. She will use it, and wait.

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