Gleefully swooping down and eating and ripping and red -

With a start, he wakes,
Shaking off the morning fatigue.
Blinking slowly and stretching,
Grinning as he lets his mind float
Float back to last night's glorious hunt.

He stretches out again
To soar into the skies and-

His shoulders feel strangely vacant.
And there's a throbbing emptiness that chills him.

He reaches frantically to the back with his claws
And he sees the fragile flesh of a human hand,
Feels nothing where his large wings once were
But smooth flesh in place of hardened scales

He stumbles backwards,
Opens his mouth and roars
But where there once was thunder
There's but a trickle,
A feeble scream
Of the dragon in the boy.

OTS, crit 4 crit.
Last edited by linear-equation at Mar 7, 2008,