Gimley stared out of the Dragonfly’s greasy window, as a horrifying, shady, iron airship came into view, getting closer and closer. He caught a glimpse a t the humongous airship’s name ‘The Midnight Crow’ coloured in a sable, oil paint. It pierced through the foggy, ash filled sky like a handmade Japanese katana slicing through a sea foam coloured bamboo. Gimley then looked at a silver harpoon, wailing through the sky like a police’s siren ring through people’s ears. In realisation, Gimley tried to fly over to his master, but it was too late. The harpoon shot through the lead like skin of Dragonfly, destroying the lower engine like a pellet gun through silk. Alarms came on whilst Gimley flew over to David with his hickory, frost wings.” Oh my fish!” Gimley shouted.” Dragonfly’s going down! It’s not safe here, take the parachute down John’s in Dublin, I sent him there, I’ll be ok. Go David go!”