When the dragons came, everyone froze, mouths agape. I mean, really, who expects dragons nowadays? Magic ran them off years ago. Yet, here they were, all eleven of them, swooping down to soft landings in the square. Just like they still owned the place. So far, they haven’t done much other than preen, flashing golden blue-green iridescence. It’s easy to forget these beauties don’t think twice about torching anyone who looks sideways at them. Jester found that out the hard way. That’s why me and my gaping mouth are over here giving them plenty of space. I’m no fool.
Writers Creed Challenge prompt: "when the dragons came" photo from Pinterest