A dragon’s treasure
Wait, I can get it. Just a—there it is. Oh how I do hate getting chain armor stuck in my teeth. A bit discomforting it is. Now perhaps I can rest briefly, before jealous and greedy king sends another hapless errand boy to steal me treasure. Says it belongs to him he does, but nay, I must disagree.
See folks, I’ve been here nearly three hundred years, wandering ‘round these woods here. Yes since a fine young hatchling, I’ve roamed these hills. Fact is, I was born over there on that knoll, the one his highness now calls home. My mum, she let me run rampant, playin’ with the locale wildlife. Well, you caught me, eating most, but hey, I was a growing dragon, I needed every ounce.
Anyway, I found this tree see; it was a sapling of a thing, much as I was. We were both new to this world, both eager to grow strong and true, to stand tall, and rule this woods. It sat by this brook here, now a bit larger almost a river one would dare say, but I digress. I would love to sit by this tree, its leaves shading me from the rays of mister sun. Laying under its protective canopy for hours well my imagination flooded my mind of places further off.
We grew together, this tree and I. I whispered it my secrets, I shared with it my memories. Over the years, we both grew, stronger, taller, and wiser, yes from saplings both of us to ancient leaders of our forest.
Now man moves in, brings axe and saw, spear and bow. Hunts, chops, kills, and defiles, oh how sad. Taking from us our home, our friends, our memories, these kings and knights are, so I hunt, chops, and kills too, but now it’s man, not my forest friends.
They ask what it is I’m so fiercely fighting over, and I tell them before they fight or flee. “It’s my treasure you see, I wanna keep it and you want to take it,” I’d tell them.
Oh yes, laying here, fighting for my treasure—my tree and land, defeating greedy man always puts a smile on my face. So yes good king send another and yet another, keep sending until you understand. I would be willing to share the shade of my tree; all the good king has to do is but ask. Yet I fear, this circle we are now in will not end, for asking is not in the nature of man.
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