Tag Archives | Ben and Tanith

The River Dragon

 

The River dragon is one of the most intriguing types of dragon in the world. Absolutely minuscule, and having features similar to the riverwolf, the pike, it has a very interesting hunting style, as well as living in a very unusual habitat. It lives in a tunnel in the banks of a river that it chooses to make it’s home in. It makes these tunnels by using it’s hooked, curving underjaw as a miniature drill. This underjaw is exceedingly similar to that of the pike’s.

The River Dragon’s eyes have three eyelids, one like a human’s, going down from the top of the eye to the bottom, as well as one going from the side to the other, backwards, and the last one has the same motion as the second, but is see-through. It uses one and two together for sleep, one or two separately for a light snooze (as one or two alone let light filter in a bit, and together they don’t let any in at all) and the last one for swimming, as water will not be let in but it can still see underwater!

However, despite it’s size, this dragon is incredibly territorial and will gallantly defend it’s home, mate and young ones. Surprisingly, this dragon is a mammal, giving birth to live young and being warm-blooded, therefore heating and cooling it’s own body rather than relying on nature to do it for them. It’s scales are actually made of keratin, the substance your hair and nails are made of.

Did you know that in 2019 two adventurers disappeared near a river, no trace left. Two months later they stumbled into the nearest village to the river Antwine, their clothes practically ripped to shreds with deep scratches and welts all over their bodies, claiming to have been set upon by a group of river dragons. If you do go searching for them, keep the adventurers in mind. The river dragons are surprisingly deadly. Beware.

The River Dragon

 

The River dragon is one of the most intriguing types of dragon in the world. Absolutely minuscule, and having features similar to the riverwolf, the pike, it has a very interesting hunting style, as well as living in a very unusual habitat. It lives in a tunnel in the banks of a river that it chooses to make it’s home in. It makes these tunnels by using it’s hooked, curving underjaw as a miniature drill. This underjaw is exceedingly similar to that of the pike’s.

The River Dragon’s eyes have three eyelids, one like a human’s, going down from the top of the eye to the bottom, as well as one going from the side to the other, backwards, and the last one has the same motion as the second, but is see-through. It uses one and two together for sleep, one or two separately for a light snooze (as one or two alone let light filter in a bit, and together they don’t let any in at all) and the last one for swimming, as water will not be let in but it can still see underwater!

However, despite it’s size, this dragon is incredibly territorial and will gallantly defend it’s home, mate and young ones. Surprisingly, this dragon is a mammal, giving birth to live young and being warm-blooded, therefore heating and cooling it’s own body rather than relying on nature to do it for them. It’s scales are actually made of keratin, the substance your hair and nails are made of.

Did you know that in 2019 two adventurers disappeared near a river, no trace left. Two months later they stumbled into the nearest village to the river Antwine, their clothes practically ripped to shreds with deep scratches and welts all over their bodies, claiming to have been set upon by a group of river dragons. If you do go searching for them, keep the adventurers in mind. The river dragons are surprisingly deadly. Beware.

The slither

Sandy stole down the steep set of steps in the old oak tree, double-checked for a disturbance and gently closed the door behind, then crept out into the woodlands. The dappled light danced as the treetops swayed gently, an illusion, the birthplace of peace. She soon came to the glimmering lake, that sparkled and twinkled in the sunlight that was slipping through the trees.

Ten minutes later, Sandy was looking about for the place where she had first seen the family of squirrels. They were situated very near a very old, venerable elm tree surrounded by bottle-green grassy moss. She scrabbled about and very quickly found the place. The moss seemed to act like a feather bed, lulling her gently to sleep…

An hour later she awoke with a jump. The once-peaceful clearing had become something like a lair. Dark shadows spread across the lake’s now grey surface. The elm’s branches looked more like claws. Suddenly, a slithering sound made itself known, followed by a splash. Sandy had, before the splash, caught sight of an oil-black tail sliding into the water.  Whatever it was, she wasn’t sticking around.

Sandy launched herself into the air, setting off like a pistol. She ran, heedless of the brambles underneath her bare feet. The branches whipped at her like a coiled spring, and as she ran, the strange slithering sound started again, this time closer, as she fled. It was only when the door of the oak had slammed behind her that she dared to stop running.

The same question was bouncing around inside her head. What was that?

 

 

Our poem

You are the number eight,

twisting and turning,

to reach infinity.

 

You are Lancaster,

a once beautiful city,

ruined by Covid-19.

 

You are a  blooming lily,

filling your tranquil home,

with your lovely radiance.

 

You are a gleaming red strawberry,

plump and tender,

ready to be picked.

 

You are the smell of fresh bread,

wafting and drawing people in,

with your delicious aroma.

 

You are the taste of crunchy chocolate,

mouth watering and brown,

wrapped in crackling paper.

 

You are the sound of a sweet melody,

drifting on the wind,

like the pied piper.

 

You are hatred,

twisting good and innocent people,

with your evil ways.