"Ahhhhh! A dragon!" You find yourself running away. For some reason you've just never been fond of the idea of becoming dragon food.
"Wait!" the voice of the dragon carries real distress, and somehow you become convinced right there that this dragon has no intention of eatting you. You stop running. Then you look around. Everyone is looking at you as if you were crazy. Now you feel very foolish: it's such an obviously nice dragon. You hope your face isn't as red as it feels. Trying to salvage what you can of your dignity, you walk back.
The dragon looks at you, appearing much happier. "Thank you," he says, bowing. My name is Myrandir. Why were you running away." So much for dignity. You find you can't raise your eyes to look at Myrandir. You stare at your feet instead, which are shuffling of their own accord. "I thought you might eat me," you mutter the words, not realy wanting to say them.
"Ah," says the dragon simply. You look up, and to your relief, see that he is not offended at all. "Would you like to see my scrapbook?" he asks.
Alignment: genuine good
Page last updated: Mon. Oct. 29, 2001
Page made: Mon. Oct. 29, 2001