An Excerpt from
The Dragonling
by
Jackie French Koller
Darek stepped back and slipped on a pebble, falling to the ground.
The dragonling twisted its neck and looked at him, its eyes shining pale green in the night.
"Rrronk," it said and began to climb down in his direction.
Darek scrambled to his feet. Small as the creature was, it was still a dragon, and Darek had no wish to face it unarmed. He
picked up a big stick.
The dragonling fluttered down off the wagon and approached on wobbly legs.
"Rrronk," it said again.
Darek held the stick out like a sword. The dragonling stopped and sniffed it. It gave it a lick, then whimpered again. Darek had
been taught all his life to hate and fear dragons, but it was hard to hate such a small one, and an orphan at that.