Thomas who was softly snoring, deep asleep. Kale knew Thomas was overly exhausted and it would pose a greater risk to attempt waking him in order to join in on the investigation. Thomas would not be able to cast any magic without a severe strain on his already weakened body. Kale stood, tightening the twine that held his oversized pants up around his waist. He was incredibly thankful to have remembered the way Thomas would often knot up a small pouch around his robes.
He stared into the darkness surrounding them, taking caution to stray from looking toward the fire in order to allow his pupils time to adjust. His hopes were running high that whatever had come so close to him was no more than a coyote or gnarlcat, which spooked away at his earlier movement or the crackling of the fire. He licked his lips, thinking how delicious it would taste after being roasted. If he could somehow catch the creature, they would be able to fill their stomachs, giving them energy to continue their journey tomorrow. He realized that as a human, he was not naturally able to kill unless he was quick enough to grasp the animal within his bare hands. He needed to find something—a weapon—and fast. Whatever ventured into their camp could already be scurrying away to safety.
He rummaged through the caravan, but to his disappointment, there were no swords or other larger weaponry. Kale did manage to dig out a small dagger, which seemed to be freshly sharpened. To his side, there was also an iron pole that looked as though it had been used to hold the caravan window open. He grabbed both, just in case, placing the dagger’s blade through his twine belt to hold it snugly in place. Kale then crept slowly toward the darkness, unknowing which direction the creature had gone—a blind hunt.
He grew discouraged after many minutes of searching, and the temptation to return to the camp was becoming more appealing. Suddenly, he heard a twig pop—something moved, and in the direction he was headed.
Here, little gnarlcat, he thought, hungrily anticipating an attack on what he still assumed to be a small animal. He smiled as he felt close to enjoying a scrumptious meal.
As he continued to follow the direction where he had heard the noise, the ground beneath his bare feet grew damp and sponge-like. Kale glanced around, soon realizing he had approached a pond which appeared quite unwelcoming and murky. He could scarcely see his surroundings, given the few twinkling stars which shone their faint light through the leaves of surrounding trees. His enthusiasm faded. What stood before Kale in the center of the pond was the very last thing he could have ever fathomed. It was certainly no coyote, definitely not a gnarlcat—but a dragon—it was him.
Chapter 4: The Monsloths
K ale pinched his eyes tightly shut and shook his head in disbelief. Was this a dream ? He slowly lifted his eyelids—the dragon was still there. Mesmerized by the sight of his former self, he took a step forward into the cloudy brown water. He sloshed his way toward a relatively small sandy island in the center where the dragon stood. The massive beast filled nearly the entire piece of land. Cypress trees bordered the lake; their roots protruding from the ground, creating an eerie, haunting appearance to the area. The body of water was surprisingly shallow, only rising to his hips at the deepest points—which, for Kale, was quite lucky considering he never swam a day in his life. As he made his way to the center section of land, Kale came face to face with the replica of his mighty former body.
“Just who are you!?” Kale tightened his grip on the iron rod, furious someone would attempt to play such a sinister trick on him after all he’d gone through. “I know you aren’t another dragon—and you’re definitely not me. So tell me, what sick game are you trying to play? Are you truly so cowardly that you fear to show me your true face?”
Kale couldn’t imagine who, other than
He stared into the darkness surrounding them, taking caution to stray from looking toward the fire in order to allow his pupils time to adjust. His hopes were running high that whatever had come so close to him was no more than a coyote or gnarlcat, which spooked away at his earlier movement or the crackling of the fire. He licked his lips, thinking how delicious it would taste after being roasted. If he could somehow catch the creature, they would be able to fill their stomachs, giving them energy to continue their journey tomorrow. He realized that as a human, he was not naturally able to kill unless he was quick enough to grasp the animal within his bare hands. He needed to find something—a weapon—and fast. Whatever ventured into their camp could already be scurrying away to safety.
He rummaged through the caravan, but to his disappointment, there were no swords or other larger weaponry. Kale did manage to dig out a small dagger, which seemed to be freshly sharpened. To his side, there was also an iron pole that looked as though it had been used to hold the caravan window open. He grabbed both, just in case, placing the dagger’s blade through his twine belt to hold it snugly in place. Kale then crept slowly toward the darkness, unknowing which direction the creature had gone—a blind hunt.
He grew discouraged after many minutes of searching, and the temptation to return to the camp was becoming more appealing. Suddenly, he heard a twig pop—something moved, and in the direction he was headed.
Here, little gnarlcat, he thought, hungrily anticipating an attack on what he still assumed to be a small animal. He smiled as he felt close to enjoying a scrumptious meal.
As he continued to follow the direction where he had heard the noise, the ground beneath his bare feet grew damp and sponge-like. Kale glanced around, soon realizing he had approached a pond which appeared quite unwelcoming and murky. He could scarcely see his surroundings, given the few twinkling stars which shone their faint light through the leaves of surrounding trees. His enthusiasm faded. What stood before Kale in the center of the pond was the very last thing he could have ever fathomed. It was certainly no coyote, definitely not a gnarlcat—but a dragon—it was him.
Chapter 4: The Monsloths
K ale pinched his eyes tightly shut and shook his head in disbelief. Was this a dream ? He slowly lifted his eyelids—the dragon was still there. Mesmerized by the sight of his former self, he took a step forward into the cloudy brown water. He sloshed his way toward a relatively small sandy island in the center where the dragon stood. The massive beast filled nearly the entire piece of land. Cypress trees bordered the lake; their roots protruding from the ground, creating an eerie, haunting appearance to the area. The body of water was surprisingly shallow, only rising to his hips at the deepest points—which, for Kale, was quite lucky considering he never swam a day in his life. As he made his way to the center section of land, Kale came face to face with the replica of his mighty former body.
“Just who are you!?” Kale tightened his grip on the iron rod, furious someone would attempt to play such a sinister trick on him after all he’d gone through. “I know you aren’t another dragon—and you’re definitely not me. So tell me, what sick game are you trying to play? Are you truly so cowardly that you fear to show me your true face?”
Kale couldn’t imagine who, other than
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