"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your..."
Wait. That's not right.
You asked about my day.
My own dragon awoke early.
Smelling the smoke I think, the rest gathered
As they do daily, chasing perfectly good townspeople up trees as I stand,
Pom-poms in hand,
helpfully shouting instructions from the ground.
That's the thing about dragon-fighting that people don't always understand...
I can throw you the sword, but ultimately, you must fight your own dragon.
Today, as I shouted, the loudspeaker shrieked.
Please fix it.
Yes, I have taken my armor off.
Yes, all of it.
You want me to drop the pom-poms, too?
It rained today, inside and out, and I have wilted.
My hair is a mess.
My face is dripping down my chin.
I am, by all accounts, smudged.
Dear, try not to mention the smoke from around the corner.
I see it.
I will mop up my dragon's footprints later,
Vacuum the rug where his tail left dirt.
Yes, yes, we will have to replace that spot.
I know that we have to replace that spot.
Around the corner...
Oh, I forgot.
This tower has no corners.
The smoke has a nose.
Maybe if I just ignore it...
And I am now wrapped in dragon.
Armor already removed for the day, there is nothing left between us.
Only my face pressed against your cold, smooth scales, poking me as I try to get comfortable in my skin,
Its talons wrapped in my hair,
Blowing smoke into my face as I try to...
This bed is full of dragon, all around is rain.
Best to shut my eyes tight.
And then I hear you,
From somewhere far below the tower,
Loudspeaker in hand,
Shouting helpfully from the ground...