DENIM & DRAGONS – #flashfictionmagic
“You have the blanket, right?”
I swallowed a sigh and patted the heavy denim cloth peeking out of my backpack. “Yes, Granny.”
“Take care of it, now. If it rips, it won’t protect you anymore.”
I smiled down at her. To anyone else, she looked like a small lady perched on her front porch rocker, her legs shriveled and useless.
To me, she was the wisest lady in our town.
“I remember, Granny,” I said softly. “I have the sewing kit too.”
With another wave, I headed down the main path toward the Tar Desert. Toward Dragon Country.
I reached Red Rock Gulch just as the western mountains took a bite out of the sun. The gulch was full of flat spaces, but the lower I went, the better. I found a narrow, shallow crevice at the far end of the gulch. The bottom, smooth and sand worn, was just visible in the dimming light. Hauling the blanket out onto my shoulder, I jumped down, only to jolt off balance as my sandals hit the stone. A quiet rip sent my stomach plummeting. The blanket was still snagged on a jagged piece of rock along the edge of the crevice. How had I missed it? I gently eased the cloth free. One of the denim squares was torn in half.
Pebbles skittered above me and I spun to face the opening. The Dragons wouldn’t be awake yet. Too light.
An unfamiliar bearded face beneath a mess of dark hair peered down at me.
“Mind if I join you?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “That depends. Are you wearing jeans?”
He coughed a surprised laugh. His teeth were white against the gathering darkness. He looked down at his legs. “I suppose I am.
“What are you doing out here?”
“My horse spooked and left me,” he said ruefully. “I’m Fara, by the way.”
I pursed my lips. Unwise to welcome a stranger in the midst of my task. But the Dragons would eat him alive if he remained unprotected. “You can come down. But I’ll need something from you.”
He crouched with a hand on the edge. “I need these jeans.”
I grinned. “I’ll bet you have an extra pocket though.”
He landed beside me with a thud. “Why are we talking about my pants pockets?”I gave him a long suffering look and lifted the torn corner. “I’m collecting Dragon scales. Why else would I be out here? My Granny enchanted this blanket to attract the scales and hide us. But this square is ripped, and I need a replacement.”
He backed away when he saw me coming with a scissors. “I’ll do it.”
By the time he sliced his pocket free and I fastened it over the hole with broad stitches, the roars had gotten much closer. The Dragons swept back and forth over the Desert. In seconds, the first airborne fight broke out, and scales rained down on the gulch’s floor and skittered toward my blanket.
“I hope I’m getting a cut of this,” Fara whispered. “What did you say your name was?”
I gave him a narrow look. “I’ll give you your pocket back, how about that?”
