World's Oldest Living Dragon by Kate McMullan

all sides.
    â€œNo!” everyone cried.
    Don Donn stood beside Grizzlegore, smiling proudly.
    â€œOh, Donn!” cried Lady Lobelia, beaming. “You are my hero!”
    â€œ Gracias, Señorita ,” said Don Donn, kissing her hand again.
    â€œUgh,” said Angus. “This looks bad.”
    Now the dragon turned to Don Donn. “ Muchas gracias , Don Donn,” he said.
    â€œYou speak Spanish?” said Don Donn, surprised.
    â€œSí,” said Grizzlegore. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you speak everything.” He smiled. “All my gold is yours, Don Donn. Take it.”
    â€œGracias,” said Don Donn. “Thank you. But it is not really your gold, is it?”
    â€œIt is now,” said Grizzlegore. “And I give it all to you.”
    â€œPor favor,” said Don Donn. “Please. Give it back to the schools.”
    Grizzlegore rolled his eyes. “All right. I shall. But how can I repay you, Don Donn?”
    â€œI’ll help you think of something, Donn,” said Lobelia.
    Before Don Donn could answer, a horse and rider appeared in the distance. Someone was riding toward DSA.
    â€œWho could that be?” asked Wiglaf.
    Erica squinted into the distance. “It is…Sir Lancelot!” she cried.
    The once-perfect knight rode up to where everyone was gathered outside of DSA. His steed sagged badly under his weight. Yet something about Sir Lancelot looked different now. For one thing, he had managed to squeeze into his armor.
    â€œOh, sir!” cried Erica. “How good to see you mounted upon your steed once more!”
    â€œThank you, lass,” he said.
    â€œI wonder how glad his steed is of it,” murmured Janice.
    â€œYou are in your armor, sir,” said Wiglaf. “Have you taken up the knightly life again?”
    â€œI have,” said Sir Lancelot. “And I watched enough of the Uno! Dos! Tres! method to know what to do. Soon I will look like the perfect knight again.”
    â€œWhat made you change your mind, sir?” asked Janice.
    â€œIt was the aged knights,” said Sir Lancelot.
    â€œShhh!” said Erica. “The dragon thinks they’re kids like us.”

    â€œThey showed me that being the best is not as important as trying your best,” said Sir Lancelot.
    â€œNow that sounds like Sir Lancelot!” cried Erica.
    â€œI shall try my best to be a good knight,” said Sir Lancelot. “And I shall try my best to run Leon out of business and get my catalog going again.”
    â€œOh, sir!” cried Erica, tears of joy springing to her eyes. “Thank you!”
    Sir Lancelot nodded. Then he picked up his reins and his steed hobbled off toward new adventures in the Dark Forest.
    â€œGood-bye, sir!” cried Erica. “Good-bye!”
    When Sir Lancelot was out of sight, Don Donn turned to the dragon.
    â€œ Señor Grizzlegore,” he said. “I have thought of a way you can repay me.”
    â€œAnything,” said Grizzlegore.
    â€œCome back with me to Ye Olde Home for Aged Knights,” said Don Donn. “You can have the whole second floor of the castle.”
    â€œThree meals a day?” said Grizzlegore.
    Don Donn nodded.
    â€œFresh linens on the bed every week?” said Grizzlegore.
    â€œSí,” said Don Donn. “I will help you with your exercises. And in return, perhaps now and then you could spar with my aged knights. Let them feel the weight of the lance in their hands once more. Let them relive their glory days.”
    â€œJust for show, right?” said Grizzlegore. “No wounds.”
    â€œNo wounds,” said Don Donn.
    â€œAnd on cold winter evenings,” put in Sir Poodleduff, “we can recite—I mean they can recite—your poem.”
    â€œComplete with dance steps!” added Sir Roger.
    â€œIt’s a deal!” cried Grizzlegore.
    Now Grizzlegore turned to Mordred. “I shall