Hermonia was dozing on Grandaddy’s shoulder as they strolled back to the house when suddenly her head bolted upright.
“Grandadddy what and who is that?” Her voice was filled with awe and wonder and her tiny finger pointed toward what had caught her eye.
“Hermonia, pointing is rude” responded Roland as he glanced behind him. “Oh that’s Zovah out for her afternoon walk. Now go back to sleep.”
Hermonia had questions but she couldn’t keep her eyes open and so she complied.
Zovah saw Roland carrying the small blonde child and smiled. Just then one of her charges decided to become a wee bit unruly and her attention was immediately focused on Myrtle the dragon turtle.
Myrtle was the last of her kind and was a unique dragon amongst many other unique dragons in Zovah’s care. Myrtle was pale orange in color and small for a dragon. Her shell was a blending of pale yellows and greens. Her eyes were a flashing deep blue, the color of an angry sky. Myrtle’s lead was hot pink and as soon as she spotted it she was more than ready to go on her afternoon walk.
“Myrtle, seriously please be on your best behavior. There are new people in the village and we don’t want to scare them off do we?” Zovah chided.
Myrtle tossed her head dismissively, still intent on getting her way and what Myrtle wanted was to be the lead dragon on this afternoon’s walk.
Zovah was also the last of her kind, a dragon handler. Dragons had all but disappeared from the world, hunted by men for various reasons. Now all the known dragons remaining lived her in Dragon’s Head Village. Zovah had loved dragons for as long as she could remember and there was never any thought of being anything other than a dragon handler.
Zovah walked the dragons every afternoon, each dragon on a lead and each dragon intent on being the lead dragon that day. Today, Tobias the Timid was the lead dragon. Tobias was a flamingo dragon. He was beautiful shades of pink with a long neck, thin legs, and wings that could cover the entire village when he decided to open them. However, Tobias was very shy and very skittish around most people. However, Tobias loved to be admired. He loved being the lead dragon on afternoon walks, and was therefore determined to put Myrtle the Turtle in her place.
Tobias swiveled his long neck and artfully head-butted Myrtle. Quite pleased with himself, he then swing his neck forward, stood a little taller, and resumed setting the direction the pack would take.
Zovah shook her head and Tobias and Myrtle, but couldn’t deny that his discipline had been far more effective than her words had been. The other dragons were all peacefully ambling long, following Tobias’ lead. The much smaller dragons were flying circles above her head, occasionally dive bombing the larger dragons playfully.
Zovah was about five feet tall and was solidly built. Her long auburn hair glistened in the afternoon sunlight as she kept on eye on her charges. She lived alone with only the dragons for company.
The dragons were the blessing and curse to the village. Outsiders, always curious to own a dragon sometime foolishly tried to raid the village and steal a one away. Never had there been a successfully attempt, for while the dragons were coveted by outsiders their love and protection for Zovah and the people of the village was far more immense then the covetous desires of outsiders. Each dragon under Zovah’s care was the last known dragon of their species and as such, Zovah treasured the tales they told and antics they got into.
As the afternoon walk continued, Zovah’s mind wandered to the blonde bundle that had been snuggled in Roland’s arms earlier. She was curious and hoped it meant her childhood friend and her family had returned. Perhaps she would have visitors later in the afternoon, she thought.
And just then, Crispin dive bombed Sedona and the flock of dragons was off. Zovah holding on for all she was worth as they dragged her behind them as they scampered, stomped, fluttered, and roared through the meadows near the village. Zovah laughed with delight as she flew behind the dragons, letting herself enjoy the romp knowing that no harm would come to her.
(*Inspired by the lovely and incredible artwork of Julie Dillon entitled Afternoon Walk.)
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