This…this is what happens when you accidentally leave your dragon out too long and it gets dried up and raisiny. Also, this is what happens when you give a 15 year old a canvas and inadequate models.
Now that, friends, is a neck. It’s a good thing dragons have eighty-foot prehensile necks, because otherwise, they’d be SOL in the picky-uppy-grabby department Tyrannosaurus Rexes look at dragons and say “Hey. Hey, big-arms.”
The biggest threat from this particular dragon was never its fiery breath, which is pretty scary. It’s certainly not its claws. No, its greatest weapon was guilt. When it was attacked, it would, like the mighty sea cucumber ejecting its internal organs, trip and break its own neck. Most hunters would just slink away in embarrassment after that. It was hardly even sporting.
Just in case you wanted to get a good look at the legs. Before we move on, that is. It’s hard to see them from any real distance.
Oh, look. It’sÂ happy.
Goodwill on 2222 and Lamar, Austin
2 Responses to “The Dessication of Smaug”
Trogdor the Burninator!
Here be dragons…after a fashion.