Dragonslayer Spies A Dragon...

       Saran and Blue reclined under the shade of the bridge, a complete, unbroken shadow linking the  two banks. Blue wore his riding leathers, while Saran lay in merely his pants, and his sack-cloth shirt hung from the braces high above, drying.
       Suddenly, a shadow darted up the river valley. Blue jumped to his feet.
       “Oh, relax. That's just Greco.” Saran grabbed his friend's ankle. “Sit back down.”
       “Greco?”
       “Yes, Greco. Probably out to get some lunch. Don't worry, he'll be fine.”
       “That was a dragon!”
       “Yes, and his name is Greco,” Saran drew out, patiently. “Nice enough fellow, too. If only he could stop frightening the locals, I'd be happier.”
       “This is bad.” Blue pulled away from the troll's hand, and walked out from under the bridge, staring up at the sky.
       Saran grumbled and rose to his feet. “What now?”
       “Looks like I'll be off on another quest again.”
       “Oh. Good luck with that.”
       Blue glared at him.
       Saran shrugged. “You're going to need it. Greco is well into his prime, and well-learned too.”
       “And you know this how?”
       “Sometimes he gets bored and comes around for a chat. With so many scared villagers and stupid royal lines about, he likes having someone to talk with.”
       “You talk with the dragon?”
       “Please, call him Greco. And yes. Greco isn't from here, originally. He used to listen to philosophers back home.”
       Blue snorted. “Right.”
       Saran nodded. “You might be entertained by some of his ideas.” He turned and crawled up the steep river bank, disappearing momentarily. He reappeared on the bridge, reaching down to retrieve his shirt. Above him, the dragon circled and slowly dropped. Saran waved, then bent over the bridge again and shouted down to Blue. “I hope your horse can handle live dragon up close.”
       “Why?”
       “Greco's come for a visit.”

The End

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