You know what would be hella fun? Being a mother fucking dragon.
Do you want to know what’s nearly not as much fun? Being a horse with wings and firebreathing abilities. Don’t get me wrong now, being able to breath fire is Fun And All, and having wings is Far From Boring, and yes, those capitalizations are Completely Necessary, but after a while, you begin to realize that you blend in and you’re Just Like Everyone Else. There’s always someone bigger, better, and stronger out there than I am. Sure, there’s no doubt that I’m stronger than most mere mortals, but it’s not like I’m a fucking dragon or anything.
Yeah, I get it. Maybe I’m a little goddamn bitter or something. I grew up on tales of dragons; I missed out on being a dragon by like, two generations. If I’d been born thirty years earlier I would’ve gotten my chance. Instead, I got all of the traits and none of the actual fun of being a dragon. I can fly, I can breathe fire, and I can fucking laugh at my own reflection because it’s just a horse staring back at me. A normal young chestnut stallion with a red-to-yellow ombre mane and wings. I’m sure there’s a million other chestnut stallions out there that look just like me.
Chestnut coat, fiery wings. Boring, boring, boring. I should’ve been a dragon.
(If only you knew, little prince)
I could’ve grown the size of a mountain and swallowed my enemies whole. Not that I have any enemies. I had left the kingdom of my birth a long time ago. No offense to my parents, of course. They had both disappeared a long time ago, after a battle that I had snuck off to join after manipulating an age-manipulator into making me into battle-age. I’ve not even aged up now to the age that she had made me for that battle, but it seems as if the battle had been so long ago… it had been a very long time ago.
Perhaps I should return to the Valley. My parents had been so loyal; is there potential for loyalty in my bones? I’m not sure. I have been a bit of a bum since my parents’ departure, derping around just here and there. Somedays I am in the Meadow and somedays I wander to the Forest. Most of the time when I end up in the Forest, I end up burning parts of it down. Honestly, I don’t know how it happens… it just happens. Oops! I swears it’s like I can’t control it sometimes. I go to speak, or shout, or scream, and the flames come out instead of words. So on occasion a tree or two (or seven) burn down. Completely On Accident.
That will be the title of my bibliography.
So the Meadow I go on this fine day. It’s a lot harder to burn trees down in a meadow, I’ve found.
COTY
Assailant -- Year 226
QOTY
"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
you can set yourself on fire [gendry]
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