Dragons, Underwear, and Other Stupid Reptiles
“Sir, we seem to have a situation.” A gravely voice crackled out of the walky-talky strapped to my waist with a vine.
“I’m a woman!” I screeched into it. “Besides, I have enough things to do right now.” I snapped.
I’m clinging to a cliff side and there’s a waterfall brushing down my back. Why don’t I climb up next to the waterfall? Because then I would be seen by the dragon I’m trying to steal an egg from. She’s a real beauty, she is, but I can’t get close enough to snatch an egg without her seeing me. That’s the problem.
“Uh, Zoë, Beacon woke up.” The voice mumbled.
“Rats!” I cursed.
Beacon is our oldest, crankiest dragon in our park. He’s very needy. He’s two hundred something years old. The only person he lets near him just happens to be me, but I’m on the other side of the planet right now.
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