Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship

-Oscar Wilde

When it comes to dragons, it is vitally important to remember that their tempers can be severe. This fact should also be coupled with the very high chance that while they are large and immensely powerful, you are smaller and easily squishable. These flights of fury are not some personality quirk, but rather a characteristic shared by the entire race. No matter how sweet or patient their individual disposition, if roused to anger, they can be dangerous. Like, really dangerous. Worse than that. Seriously, we’re talking scorched earth and silent spring here. They will quite literally wreck your shit.

With that in mind, there are a few notable ‘hot buttons’ that all dragons possess. If you seek to keep your limbs attached, it is strongly advised that these actions be avoided at all costs.

First: Dragons do not enjoy being startled awake.

Tulip’s very enjoyable dream was broken when a loud crash echoed through the chamber. She was already bolting upright while still half-asleep, smacking her head solidly against the rocky ceiling. Clutching her bruised skull, she blinked her eyes rapidly to clear the blurriness. The noise was still echoing from somewhere further back in her cave, and it was getting louder by the second. The kind of prolonged, earsplitting clatter that comes when a great many objects go toppling to the ground one after another.

Already feeling a terrific migraine coming on, Tulip fumbled for her glasses, her sleep-addled mind trying to figure out what was going on.

‘One of the children coming by for lessons? A patron wanting to check out a book?’ She shook her head. ‘No, that can’t be. I’m on vacation, more than two days’ flight from Redbank. Nobody even knows I have this summer cave!’

Donning her glasses, she rose to her feet and trudged down the corridor to see what all the fuss was about.

Second: Dragons do not care for uninvited guests.

Tulip paused. Something was different. It was almost like… wait! There was an unfamiliar scent tickling her nose. She sniffed the air twice, trying to separate it from the familiar aromas of her home.

There it was. Faint, but she could detect hints of lavender and pine needles, and beneath that…

Her lips curled back in a frown. Someone else was in the cave, and from the sound of it, they were poking around in her treasure hoard! She picked up the pace, her eyes narrowing in anger.

Third: Dragons really, REALLY do not like being stolen from.

The chamber where Tulip stored her valuables had been designed for maximum visual appeal. A series of natural sinkholes in the roof allowed light to filter in, lighting up the piles of gold and silver and causing the room to glow with light. Ever the perfectionist, Tulip had been careful to arrange her many treasures into neat and ordered piles, even categorizing them by type and material!

So as you could imagine, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to see that her jewelry section had tumbled right into a stack of platinum ingots. The ornaments had scattered like a house of cards, with crowns and brooches and necklaces hopelessly tangled together.

And sitting atop the ruined pile, looking very pleased with herself, was an antelope doe. In her hands was a finely shaped mithril tiara, emblazoned with amethysts and garnets.

That was the last straw. Her vacation interrupted, a splitting headache, a ruined nap, hours of cleaning ahead of her, and the thief was still lounging about without a care in the world!

A rumble was building in Tulip’s chest, and she released it as a deafening growl that sounded more like a distant thunderclap. The antelope started at the sound, the fur on her neck, shoulders and arms standing on end. She turned her head slowly, and then tilted it higher and higher until their gazes locked.

Tulip bared her teeth and took one earth-shaking step forward.

Committing any of these transgressions is a sure way to anger any dragon. Should you be foolish or suicidal enough to perform all three… well… all you need to know is that it breathes fire, it’s mad as hell, and it’s getting closer.

Nice knowing you.

Her trance broken, the terrified antelope scrambled to her feet and took off, stumbling over the loose treasure. Tulip was slow to follow, having to carefully weave her way through the stacks of loot. She might have been near blind with rage, but she was certainly NOT going to make more of a mess for herself, thank you!

By the time she reached the other side of the chamber, the antelope had already peltered down one of the corridors. But Tulip wasn’t letting her get away that easily. Ducking her head and clenching her wings against her back, she broke into a loping sprint. She barreled down the tunnel, tracking her pray by the antelope’s harsh, shuddering breaths. She was fast, Tulip had to admit, running on pure adrenaline and fear.

But she was also losing ground by about thirty feet per step.

The tunnel curved sharply to the left, and Tulip took the corner at full speed. She slammed hard into the wall, causing rocks and stalactites to rain down from the ceiling. She’d be extremely sore tomorrow, but a flash of brown and auburn ahead of her spurred her on.

The thief was in view now. Tulip dipped her head lower, until her chin was nearly skimming the cavern floor. Her mouth yawned open, ready to bite.

The antelope skidded to a halt, and pivoting on one foot, she threw herself to the right. Tulip’s jaws snapped down on empty air. From the corner of her eye, she could see the antelope squeezing into a narrow shaft in the wall.

Snarling in fury, Tulip clenched her claws into a fist and drove it into the rock. The limestone shattered, and she pushed her arm deeper into the opening.

There was a startled cry, and her scales brushed against a warm body and soft fur. But before she could tighten her grip, Tulip felt the antelope slipping through her claws. She groped blindly, but to no avail.

Withdrawing her arm, Tulip pressed her face to the wall and peered into the shaft. It led to a tunnel which she’d never known existed. Sunlight filled the crawlspace, and she squinted into the glare to see the antelope working her way up and out of the crevice.

Pressing her jaws up against the opening, Tulip loosed a wave of fire straight down the tunnel. She blew until her chest ached, then gulped in a huge breath and shot another blast. This one she held until her vision spotted. When she finally ended the blaze, she once more peeked down into the hole.

…and caught a glimpse of a fluffy white tail disappearing into the sun.

Tulip threw back her head and shook the cave with a frustrated roar.

She spent the next half hour relieving her stress by completely demolishing that side cavern. It was not only cathartic, but now there wouldn’t be any more thieves sneaking their way in.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that there was one particular interloper (anteloper?) who still had their grubby mitts on her property. The question was, how would she go about reclaiming it?

Tulip pondered over that question for the rest of the morning while she tried to clean up the mess. Well, she pondered it in-between stewing in her own guilt. Truth be told, she was more than a little embarrassed by her behavior. To put it bluntly, she was mortified. While that doe was certainly in the wrong, it was no excuse for trying to run her down and devour her like some ravenous beast. Tulip honestly couldn’t imagine what she’d been thinking! She liked to think that she was a BIT more civilized than that!

Staring cross-eyed at the ruined pile of jewelry, she carefully nudged them back into place. As far as she’d been able to tell, that tiara had been the only thing stolen. She wondered why. She doubted that anyone foolhardy enough to sneak into a dragon’s lair for loot would settle for a single piece of treasure. That antelope should have left a trail of coins and gems from her bulging pockets as she ran.

And why the tiara? It was certainly a beautiful piece, but it was far and away from the most valuable thing she possessed. Tulip made a mental note to ask the thief whenever she tracked her down.

“First things first, I suppose I’ll have to find her,” she mumbled. Hooking a bracelet, she spun it around the tip of her claw idly. It went without saying that she’d have her hands full trying to reassure the doe that she wasn’t there to gobble her up on the spot. That in itself would be challenge enough. How would she even approach the subject?

“Ahh, hello,” she said with a forced, dopey smile. “You might not recall, but we met earlier. You stole something from me and I nearly swallowed you whole! There was also that nasty business of trying to roast you alive. Perhaps you remember now?”

She rolled her eyes. Oh yes, that would go splendidly, she was sure. Still, she was getting ahead of herself.

“Where would she even go? To sell the tiara? To flee the country? Hmm, either way, she couldn’t have gone too far on foot, there are only a few villages within a day’s travel of here. I suppose I’d best start with them.”

Nodding to herself, she rose to her feet and ambled out of the cave. It was going to take days of work to rearrange her stockpile, so she might as well begin the search now.

A quick stretch and shake of the wings, and she took to the air. The temperature had risen considerably since that morning, and the noonday sun felt heavenly on her scales. Content to let the updrafts carry her higher, Tulip sailed high over the land in long, drifting curves, her eyes scanning the roads for any trace of that distinct auburn hair.

Her first stop was a thriving riverside community. Home to many shipping and trading businesses, it seemed the likeliest place for a thief to try and pawn off her ill-gotten gains. Gliding down over the homes and shops, Tulip came to rest on the shore. Her arrival had been anything but subtle, and it didn’t take long before a throng of curious onlookers were milling about.

As delighted as she was by the warm welcome, she quickly found herself overwhelmed. Everyone seemed eager to claim her attention, and the chorus of voices made it impossible for her to get a word in edgewise. She endured nearly an hour of greetings and introductions before finally being able to state her business.

The assembled townsfolk listened raptly to her description of the thief, but Tulip was disappointed to learn that no travelers matching her description had passed through, nor had any items been sold that even came close to resembling her stolen tiara.

When it became clear that the thief was not to be found in that town, Tulip thanked the villagers for their assistance. Politely fending off the overzealous jewelers still looking to sell her their shlocky, overpriced junk, she climbed back into the sky.

Unfortunately, the next village was a similar dead end. Quite literally.

The entire town had been gutted by fire. The few building that remained standing were little more than skeletal hulks of charred timber, their blackened frames on the verge of collapse. Tulip made a few passes overhead, trying to spot any movement below. As near as she could tell, it was utterly deserted, the inhabitants relocating long ago.

Of course, that might make it an even more attractive hiding spot. Much as she disliked the idea of poking around in a ghost town, it would probably be best to check. Just to be certain.

Tulip landed on a nearby hillside and crept down into the ruins. She peered into cellars and nosed through broken houses, her eyes watering from the faint, but still pungent reek of burning wood. Once she was satisfied that the thief was not hiding out somewhere in the rubble, she got out of there as quickly as she could. Frankly, that place gave her the willies.

By now it was late afternoon, the sun beginning its descent through the western sky. She was still not a bit closer in her search. Only one village left, and if that came up blank, the only remaining option would be to search over the countryside. At the rate things were going, she’d be forced to wait until dark before she could try and search for the light of a campfire. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that; the last thing she wanted was to spend the night swooping around like some giant bat!

Her arrival caused the inhabitants to burst into a flurry of movement, the town resembling a large anthill that had been stomped. They rushed here and there, voices mixing in a chorus of yells and shrieks. Hoping not to cause too much of a fuss, Tulip chose to settle herself at the outskirts of town and wait to be approached.

It wasn’t long before a rather fat badger came huffing and puffing out to meet her. Clad in a waistcoat and vest (complete with pocket watch and monocle, she noted,) he obviously held some position of authority. He attempted a sort of fumbling half-bow, then craned his neck up to look at her. A thin sheen of sweat covered his brow.

“Gr…gr…greeting, ma…mi…mighty drag… dragon,” he stuttered. “Ch… Christopher Redington, mayor of this to…to…to… village. At… at your service!”

Tulip ducked lower to the ground to try and ease the strain on his neck. “A pleasure to meet you,” she said brightly. “My name is Tulip, and I would like to please speak with your constable about some stolen property of mine that may be in this town.”

The badger’s face had turned a sickly shade of green. “No… no you must be mis…mistaken! I… s… s… swear that no one in this town would be so f…fo…foolish as to rob a dr..drag…drag… rob you!”

“Oh no, no I wouldn’t dream of suggesting it was one of your citizens,” she said, quickly waving a claw to try and reassure him. “I simply believe that the thief might have stopped here for the night and…”

“We… we didn’t know! We would never ha… harbor a crim… criminal!” The badger had dropped to his knees his hands clasped and held up to her pleadingly. “P…p…please… spare us your… wra… wr… dragonship!”

She was finding it quite tiresome to be constantly interrupted, and it looked as though the poor fellow was about to drop dead from fright.

“Listen,” she finally said, trying not to sound too annoyed. “I am not accusing you of anything. I would just like to know if you’ve seen an antelope doe pass through your town. She has very long, reddish hair and bright green eyes. She would be carrying a valuable jeweled tiara with her.”

A gleam of hope seemed to pass over the badger. “If… if she’s here, we’ll find her! I pr… promise! Just give me some… some time! Wait right there!”

He was up and running before the words had fully left his mouth. Tulip watched as he raced back into town, banging on doors and calling for the citizens to gather in the street. Her jaw dropped when she caught a few of the words he was babbling: That a terrible, bloodthirsty dragon was besieging their town, claiming that they were hiding a thief somewhere inside. If they refused to find and hand her over, the dragon would burn them all to ashes in a mad quest for revenge.

Wishing she could somehow sink into the ground, Tulip remained sitting where she was, even trying to give friendly waves to the fearful villagers that stared back at her. Inwardly, she was wondering what she’d done to deserve this. Why did this have to be one of THOSE towns?

She groaned aloud when she spotted various members of the throng lighting torches, and even a few pitchforks bobbing up and down in the crowd.

‘Torches,’ she thought. ‘Are they serious? It’s still daylight out!’

Angry voices mixed together, fists began shaking, and soon the entire group had been whipped into a frenzied mob. She considered trying to calm them down, explain that all this ruckus was completely unnecessary, perhaps even try and explain that the thief might not even be there.

But as they splintered off in different directions, she chose to hold her tongue. Mobs weren’t exactly known for their brains, and odds were that any interference on her part would only incite them further. Electing to just stretch out on the grass and wait, she only hoped this ridiculous spectacle ended quickly and quietly.

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She was fumbling her way through the passage when a sudden blast of heat came from behind. Chinook threw herself into a side crevice, feeling her the fur on her arms smolder as a jet of flame shot past her and down the tunnel. The roar of superheated air drowned out the sound of her own scream, and she pressed herself against the cool, rock wall to try and escape the raging heat.

The flames sputtered and died, only for another stream of fire to take their place. Chinook’s lungs burned for air, but she stubbornly held her breath to keep any of the boiling air from entering her throat.

The fire died down once more, and Chinook squeezed out of the crevasse and made her way up the tunnel. Coming to the exit, she made a dash for the woods, the dragon’s enraged bellow still ringing in her ears. Clutching the tiara for dear life, she leapt over fallen tree limbs and through shrubs, not stopping until the canopy above was thick enough to all but block out the sun. The foliage around her was wet and dripping from the last night’s rainstorm, old leaves and brambles coating the forest floor. Chinook took another haltering step, and once she felt sure that she was safely hidden from sight, dropped to her knees.

She struggled for breath, a burning stitch in her side. She was quite sure she’d never run so fast and hard in her life. That was close, far too close. She once more berated herself for stopping to admire the tiara, rather than escaping immediately, but having the object in her grasp after nearly two years of searching had been too joyful a moment to spoil.

She’d taken a few more minutes to catch her breath, and then decided it was time to move. She didn’t know how skilled dragons were at tracking, but it would be less than ideal for her to be caught out in the open. Returning to her campsite, the antelope quickly dismantled her tent. Folding the canvas into a makeshift bag, she packed up the rest of her supplies and set off down the road.

As luck would have it, a farmer overtook her after no more than half an hour’s walk and offered a ride. Eager to rest her aching feet, Chinook had gratefully climbed into the back of the hay wagon. She spent the remainder of the trip dozing in sunlight, the tiara nestled safely in her pack.

They reached a village shortly before noon, and the driver nudged Chinook awake so that he could unload his stock. Thanking him for the ride, she slid to the ground and headed for the nearest inn. One inhospitable desk clerk later, she was finally in a room of her own. Safe and sound for the night.

Chinook wasted no time in bolting the door and stripping out of her wet, muddy clothes. After a long, relaxing bath, she slipped into a clean dress and snuggled her way under the covers. Despite the sunlight filtering in between the curtains and the loud bustle from outside, she was asleep minutes after her head touched the pillow.

She was awakened by shouting from the streets below. Rolling onto her stomach, Chinook poked her head out from the tangle of blankets, squinting into the afternoon sun. She could hear voices raised from what seemed to be all directions, sounding panicked and furious. She was way too tired to care. With a displeased moan, she wiggled her head under the pillow and tried to block the noises out.

“- lodgings for the night?”

“- few hours ago. Put her in room 401-“

“-she look like?”

“-her, I’m sure of it!”

Footsteps clattered loudly on the stairs, the voices growing in volume.

“-right here. Take the keys!”

The doorknob rattled.

“It’s not moving, must be bolted from inside!”

Someone was pounding on the door now, making the frame creak and groan with every hit.

“Open up in there!”

“Go ‘way, ‘m already paid until tomorrow,” Chinook mumbled, throwing her pillow at the door.

“Break it down!”

Wood splintered as the door was smashed open. Chinook screamed in alarm as several figures pushed and shoved their way inside. Before the startled doe could untangle herself from the blankets, she was seized by the arms and pulled from the bed. Despite all the chaos and confusion, she had enough time to be thankful that she hadn’t slept in the nude.

Chinook was forced into the hall and down the stairs. They dragged her outside and two villagers held her fast while another dumped the contents of her bag into the dirt. Men and women crowded around, and she could see by the tenseness of their bodies that they were on the verge of panic.

Her heart was thundering in her chest. She didn’t know what was going on, couldn’t imagine what was going on. Had she done something wrong, angered these people somehow? She was trying to think of what faux pas she could possibly have committed when a shout came from her left. She turned to look, and a chill ran up her spine as a villager lifted the tiara over his head.

“Here it is! Just like the dragoness said!”

‘Dragoness? Oh no, oh no no no! It can’t be!’

Chinook was pulled to her feet, and more hands pinned her arms behind her back. The crowd began to move, and she was half-dragged, half-shoved along. Off in the distance, she caught a glimpse of blue scales and wings.

She fought to get away, not caring that she was entrapped in a moving stream of bodies. She tried to pull her arms free, tried to dig her heels into the ground, even tried kicking and biting at those around her. Nothing worked, and Chinook soon found herself gazing fearfully up into a face she’d never wanted to see again.

The dragon stared down at Chinook from over her glasses. Her face was set into a very pinched frown, giving her the look of a rather uptight librarian. All she needed to do, Chinook thought a bit hysterically, was put a claw to her lips and give a loud SHH!

The tiara was passed through the crowd until it reached the hands of a fat, pompous looking jackass that could only be the mayor of this town. For a moment, Chinook’s fears were temporarily pushed aside in favor of petulance as she watched him groveling in front of the dragon. So that’s what this was? They were selling her out to save their own skins?!

“Here, your ladyship! She was hid… hiding this in her ba... bag!”

The dragon reached down and carefully plucked the tiara up between her claws. She examined it carefully, and seemingly satisfied, reached up and fitted it snugly over the tip of a horn.

“Thank you for the assistance, you have all been a tremendous help,” she said. Chinook was shocked to learn that the dragon’s voice was actually quite pleasant, far from the grating rumble you’d expect from a creature that size.

“What should we do with the thief,” someone further back in the crowd asked.

“Yes, what?!”

“Tell us!”

“Tha… that’s right,” the mayor said. “Surely you want this criminal pu…pun…punish for her misd… de… deeds?”

Chinook could only stand there and gape at the badger in shock as the crowd roared their assent. This was turning into a lynch mob! And to make matters worse, they weren’t just offering, they were downright BEGGING to do the job!

‘Should’ve stuck with the campsite,’ she thought wryly.

The dragon’s eyes bulged, and for a moment Chinook thought that she actually looked upset by the idea.

“Oh no, I certainly don’t want you to go through all the trouble,” she said. She rubbed the back of her neck with a claw, an almost sheepish smile on her face.

“Of course, how could we be so selfish,” another villager said. “The dragoness obviously wants to carry out the punishment herself!”

Any relief Chinook might have felt was swept away as the crowd erupted into murmurs and shouts.

“Like a sacrifice!”

“Yes, yes!”

“The least we can do, after she spared our town!”

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” the dragon tried to protest. Her voice was drowned out by the crowd, numerous villagers chiming in with ideas and suggestions for Chinook’s demise.

“What about that old scaffolding outside of town?”

“Perfect! Quickly, grab a pair of shackles from the sheriff’s office.”

“Just be patient, your ladyship! We’ll have this ruffian prepared for justice soon enough!”

The last thing Chinook saw before they hauled her away was the dragon slapping a palm against her forehead, her face twisted into a look of utter annoyance.

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A tiny voice in the back of Tulip’s head kept insisting that there was no reason for her to stay here at this point. She’d retrieved her property, so now was the time to get the hell away from these crazy people.

She didn’t disagree with the voice by any means. These villagers came across as paranoid and disgustingly sycophantic. She also had a feeling that the longer she stuck around, the more unhinged they’d become.

Leaving was not an option at this point, however. She glanced to the left, where the villagers were gleefully chaining her unwanted sacrifice to one of the scaffold’s beams.

She had tried, several times in fact, to persuade the villagers that she did not want a sacrifice, did not want the antelope punished, in fact did not want anything but for them both to be allowed to go about their business. Needless to say, she was less than successful.

The dragon shook her head in bewilderment as they rang, of all things, a dinner bell to summon her. Muttering under her breath about screwball peasants, she moseyed over. Might as well get this over with, right?

They’d hoisted the antelope into the air, letting her hang by her wrists from one corner of the scaffold. For reasons Tulip couldn’t begin to guess, the chain attached to her shackles looked to be nearly twenty feet long! What did they expect, for Tulip to use her as a tetherball?

The mayor waddled up, looking far too pleased with himself. “Welcome, your ladyship! As you ca… can see, the sacrif.. rif… fice has been prepared just as you requested!”

Tulip’s eyebrows shot up. ‘As I REQUESTED?!’

Nevertheless, she forced a smile and said, “I… see. Well, thank you? I… suppose?”

Coming to a stop in front of the scaffold, Tulip eased back onto her haunches and waited for the villagers to clear out. After a few minutes of silence, however, it became clear that they had no intention of leaving.

“Umm, excuse me ma’am,” another villager said. “But is something wrong.”

Tulip looked down at the woman. “Why of course not, why do you ask?”

“The marmot toyed with one of her apron strings, her gaze firmly on the ground. “Well, you’re not… not devouring her. Or incinerating her. Or… anything.”

Tulip couldn’t believe this. The lady actually sounded disappointed! What did these people intend to do, just sit around and gawk, maybe eat a picnic lunch?

It had become painfully clear that there was no point in trying to reason with these louts. Baring her teeth in what she hoped was a fearsome way, Tulip ducked her head down until she almost level with the marmot.

“I’m just waiting for a bit of privacy before I have my fun,” she growled. The villager stumbled back, and Tulip whipped around to glare at the rest of the crowd.

‘Think scary, think scary, think scary,’ she told herself. Snorting a jet of smoke from her nostrils, she glared down at them.

“You see, we dragons don’t like to be watched or disturbed at times like these. We get a bit… out of control,” She licked her lips and watched several of them cringe. “I wouldn’t want anything... unfortunate… to happen to you fine people.”

This time, she made sure her smile was as wide and toothy as possible, and it worked like a charm. The crowd broke up immediately, individuals scattering back into town.

That just left her and…

Tulip looked back to the antelope, who was staring up at her with a mixture of curiosity and fear. They stared one another down for a few moments, only the sound of a squawking crow breaking the silence.

“Um, hello!”

“……..”

‘My, but this is awkward,’ Tulip thought.

“So… how was your day? Well, obviously it’s not going well now… and I suppose it was rather poor when I was trying to kill you…”

Tulip realized she was babbling, and quickly snapped her mouth closed before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

The antelope seemed to notice her distress, a weak smile spreading across her face.

“Is… uh… this your first sacrifice,” she asked, the slightest tremor in her voice.

Tulip blushed in embarrassment. “Yes, I suppose. And is it your first time…. being sacrificed?”

She realized how stupid that question must have sounded, but the antelope laughed.

“I don’t think I’d be here if it wasn’t!”

Feeling much less nervous, Tulip flopped down onto the grass and rested her head in her arms, her snout only a few feet from the antelope’s toes.

“I suppose some introductions are in order,” she said. “We didn’t have much chance before, after all.”

“Hey! I would’ve been glad to socialize if you weren’t trying to crush me, fry me and eat me!”

“Well, maybe you should have dropped what you stole and apologized,” Tulip shot back.

The antelope rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that would’ve worked great I’ll bet. Probably wouldn’t have gotten past ‘sorry’ before I was halfway down your throat.”

“Now don’t you point fingers at me. YOU were the one breaking into MY home,” Tulip chided her. “I think I acted in a perfectly reasonable manner.”

“Point taken,” the antelope said. “Well, okay then.”

With a goofy grin on her face, she wiggled her hand and said, “Hi there! I’m Chinook, and I’ll be your sacrifice for the evening!”

Tulip giggled. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Tulip, and well, I suppose I’ll be your dragon for the evening.”

Once their laughter died down, Chinook chewed on her lip before glancing back up at Tulip.

“So…. you’re not really going to eat me or anything right? I mean, I saw how you tried to talk those nutcases out of this whole thing.”

Tulip scoffed. “Certainly not! Despite my uncouth behavior back in the cave, I assure you that I have no desire to partake in any such barbarism!”

She paused. “Speaking of which, why did you steal this from me anyway?” She gestured to the tiara on her claw. “It isn’t the most valuable treasure I possess, and certainly not worth risking your life!”

“It’s kind of a long story…”

Tulip smirked. “I have plenty of time, and pardon me for saying so, but it doesn’t look like YOU have anything better to do right now.”

Chinook puffed out her cheeks in a pout. “Fine! I was hired by a shipping magnate named Keracik to find that tiara. Said it was a wedding gift to his grandmother, and he always carried it around with him.”

“Now just a minute,” Tulip snapped. “I’ll have you know that I found this tiara in the wreckage of a wagon at the bottom of a cliff. If you’re about to accuse me of stealing it…”

“I never said it was stolen! Just that he lost it.”

Tulip felt her cheeks heating up again. “Oh, I’m sorry then. Continue, please?”

“He figured bandits must have stolen it, since they were the reason his wagon went over that cliff in the first place. I uh… have a few unsavory connections, so he asked me to check around and see if somebody might have it in their collection or pawn shop.”

“You mean you searched the entire country,” Tulip asked. “Goodness, but that must have taken ages!”

“About twenty months,” Chinook agreed. “It was pretty obvious that nobody had even seen it, so I decided to look a bit closer to home. Heard a rumor that there was a dragon in the area, and I figured, what dragon doesn’t like treasure, right?”

“Indeed. And you thought that gave you the right to sneak into my cave and rummage about in my belongings? It never occurred to you to ASK me about the tiara?”

Chinook’s ears drooped. “Um, well, the people that directed me there sort of mentioned that you were gone most of the year. I… was kind of counting on it being deserted.”

“So you planned to rob me from the start,” Tulip said accusingly.

“Well excuse me for being a little bit nervous of strolling in and asking for part of your treasure! Besides, you have so much other stuff, I didn’t think you’d miss one little thing!”

“Which just shows how little you know about us dragons,” Tulip said with a snort. “We tend to keep a very close watch on our possessions.”

“I never would have guessed,” Chinook grumbled.

“Regardless, I would have been more than happy to return this to its rightful owner,” Tulip continued. “If you had just said so in the first place, rather than slinking about like a serpent, we could have avoided all this bother!”

”So… does that mean you’re going to let me keep it,” Chinook asked with an innocent smile.

“After everything that’s happened? I should say not! What you can do is speak with this client of yours, tell him that if he wants it back, I’d be more than willing to sell it for a fair price.”

“Are you serious?! You made me go to all this trouble for nothing?!”

“Don’t talk to me about trouble,” Tulip said, waggling a claw. “You made me spend the entire day searching around for you!”

“Big deal, I spent nearly two years looking for that damn thing!”

Tulip glared at the antelope. “Well… well you interrupted my nap, made me bruise my head and made an absolute mess of my treasure hoard!”

“Oh yeah,” Chinook yelled. “Well you had me dragged out of bed, manhandled around town and dangled like a fish on a hook by an angry mob!”

“I… I never asked them to do anything like this,” Tulip sputtered. “So that doesn’t count!”

“You didn’t exactly stop them either!”

“Now you see here, I could have just taken this and been on my way. Goodness knows what they would have done to you in my absence. You should be grateful I stayed here to save your life!”

“Save me? You call THIS saving me?”

“It’s the best I could do on such short notice, you ungrateful thing!”

“Rrgh, fine! Just get me down!”

“Oh no, not with an attitude like that,” Tulip said. “There is not going to be any rescue unless you apologize right this minute!”

“Oh yeah? And what if I don’t,” Chinook said challengingly.

She couldn’t believe this doe was being so feisty! “Or I’ll… I’ll… I’ll MAKE you apologize,” she threatened.

“Hah! Bring it on, lady!”

That made Tulip pause. How was she going to teach this mouthy little thief a lesson? She certainly didn’t want to hurt the girl, but what other options would she have? She let out a frustrated breath, and was surprised to see Chinook shudder and gasp.

Noticing her quizzical look, she said, “Hehe, sorry. Your breath kinda tickles.”

A very, VERY wicked idea came to mind. “You don’t say?”

Not waiting for a response, Tulip reached up and began untying the chain that held Chinook to the scaffold. Once it came loose, Tulip began wrapping the links around one of her claws. Chinook yelped as she was yanked around in the air.

Once the chain was securely fastened, Tulip lifted Chinook up to eye level. The antelope squirmed and wiggled, clearly uncomfortable with their sudden proximity.

“He… hey! What do you think you’re doing,” she demanded, seeing one of the Tulip’s claws moving slowly towards her. She kicked out at the finger, as if trying to push it back.

“This,” Tulip said, digging her claw lightly into the antelope’s exposed armpit.

“Aiyee!” Chinook tried to pull away from the tickling claw, but as she was suspended in midair, there was really no place for her to go. She bit her lip and tried to hold back the giggles as Tulip skittered the claw across her back and into the other armpit.

“Well? Do you feel like apologizing yet?” Tulip let her claw slide down Chinook’s side. The antelope’s dress was getting in the way, but she still tickled her way across the stomach, bringing forth another slew of giggles.

“Nuh… no way,” Chinook gasped. “I can… take… whatever you got!”

Tulip ceased her torture. “Oh really,” she asked, lifting Chinook higher. She stared directly into the doe’s eyes, her face splitting into a wide grin.

“Care to bet on that?”

She gave Chinook a few moments to catch her breath. When the antelope finally answered, she sounded much less confident.

“Bet? What do you mean bet?”

“Just what I said, of course! I’ll wager that I can have you begging and screaming for mercy by the time the sun goes down. If you win, I’ll give you the tiara as a gift.”

Chinook’s eyes lit up, but then her expression turned cautious. “And if you win?”

Tulip chuckled. “WHEN I win, you agree to come back to my cave and clean up that awful mess you made of my treasure hoard. Every gem, every coin, every item back in its proper place.”

Chinook gulped, obviously remembering just how big a mess she had created. Her eyes flicked to the tiara.

“Deal.”

“Wonderful,” Tulip exclaimed. “Now, I’d ask if you were ready to begin, but I don’t have much time. So here we go!”

Positioning her other hand below Chinook, Tulip extended a single claw below the antelope’s feet.

Chinook’s eyes widened. “No, wait a second!”

Tulip ignored her and raked the claw up and down her ankle. Chinook gritted her teeth, her breath hitching as she tried to fight the incoming laughter.

“Don’t smile,” Tulip cooed. “Don’t smiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiile….”

“Not… gonnna…” the antelope managed to say between snickers, her cheeks twitching madly.

“Are you sure?” With one last slide down her leg, Tulip wiggled her claw in circles against the sole of Chinook’s foot.

"HEHEHEHEEEHEEEEHAHAHAHAhahaha! Nohohohohehehehehe! WAIT! HeheheHEHAHAHA! STOP IT! hehahehehahehe!"

Chinook was laughing uncontrollably now, kicking her feet in every direction to try and escape the claws. She was bouncing up and down from her chain, even spinning in wide circles, but Tulip matched her at every turn.

The antelope quickly worked herself to exhaustion and hung limply by her shackles, only able to laugh and flinch with each tickling stroke.

Thoroughly enjoying herself, Tulip switched to the other foot. “Mmmhmm, I think I’ve found your weakness. Mercy?”

“NuhnuhnuhnuhNOWAHEHEHEHEHEHEHAY!”

But even after several more minutes of torture, the antelope refused to give in. Then Tulip got an even better idea. Letting her claw drop, she lifted Chinook back up to eye level. Tears were running down her face, and her cheeks were stained bright red from laughter.

“Ready to give up? This is your last chance…”

Chinook panted for breath, her eyes nearly rolling back into her head. “Not a… a…. chance… heeheehee… I’m… not… *gasp* giving up!”

“Very well then, you asked for this.” Tulip slowly opened her mouth wide.

“Wait… wha… what are you doing now?”

She ignored the question. Sticking out her tongue as far as it could reach, she waggled it back and forth in Chinook’s face, then slowly dipped it down towards her feet.

“No! Not that! Oh please, no no nonononononononophaahahahahaha! PLEHAHAHAHA! PLE-PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!"

Tulip’s tongue was a blur of pink as she flicked it over Chinook’s feet, across her armpits, even against her neck and shoulders. The antelope’s pleas mixed with her laughter until the only thing coming out of her mouth was a frantic stream of giggles and screams.

“Thuwwendew,” Tulip ordered. “Oow it wiw onwy get wowth! I pwomith I’ww find evewy tickwish thpot on youw body!” She batted Chinook’s tail with the tip of her tongue, her claw digging into a particularly sensitive place above her collarbone. Chinook only managed another shriek of laughter and a violent shake of her head.

Back in the village, the townsfolk were watching from their rooftops. They shuddered in horror at the girl’s distant screams. It was an awful fate, of course, but better her than them.

“The poor child,” one of them said. “Not even allowed the dignity of a quick death.”

“I can’t believe she’s still screaming. What is that monster doing to her?”

A second peered through his telescope. “Oh my… it looks like she’s… licking her?”

Another grimaced. “I guess she likes to play with her food.” A random woman swooned.

“Oh god, the tongue’s wrapping around her now,” the one with the telescope exclaimed. “She’ll be swallowed whole any second! I… I can’t watch!”

“STOP! STUHAHAHAHAAP!! MERCY!!!!”

The screams tapered off. That could only mean one thing. The dragon had finished her off. The forlorn villagers bowed their heads, praying for the poor soul they had left at the dragon’s mercy. Without another word, they departed for their homes.

Back at the field, Tulip had lowered Chinook gently onto the grass. The antelope was gasping as though she’d just run a marathon, her face as red as a tomato.

Tulip smirked down at her. “I believe that means I win.”

Chinook scowled darkly up at her, though her giggling fit made it difficult to take seriously. “Yuh… you… ch… cheated…” she managed to wheeze.

Tulip clucked her tongue. “Now, now, don’t be a sore loser. I made you admit defeat fair and square, after all. And that means you…”

Grasping Chinook by the midsection, Tulip plopped her onto her back. “Are now my personal maid for the immediate future. And I must say, you’ll have some long days of cleaning ahead. Don’t worry about ruining your clothes though, I have the cutest little outfit and apron to dress you up in!

“You’re…. joking… right?”

Tulip grinned. “You’ll just have to wait and see, so why don’t we head for home?”

She heard Chinook jingle the shackles. “Wa… wait! Aren’t… you… you gonna take these off first?

Tulip grinned. “Actually, I think we’ll keep them on, I rather like the idea of keeping you on a short leash! And besides, they look quite cute on you!”

With a flap of her wings, Tulip lifted into the sky, Chinook's outraged reply drowned out by the rushing air.





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My entry for 's contest: robthehoopedchipmunk.deviantar… . The cover image was a commission from Rob that was just too good NOT to have its own story.I wanted to have a dragon peril picture and story, but considering how sweet of a gal Tulip is, figured she wouldn't be the type to demand sacrifices. But then I thought, she also might be the type who's too polite to refuse them as well! That's how Chinook finds herself at the mercy of a dragon with a devious side.This image was created by the ever-amazing The lovely Tulip belongs to him as wellChinook belongs to my gal, who enjoys being tickled far too much for her own good!