Donald Darlinton was born in 1976, in Germany, Linckton. At the age of 4, his parents began to gain fame for curing a deadly dragon disease, The White Out. As a baby, before his parent’s fame, he used to entertain himself by playing with his favourite dragon in the dragon daycare nursery, Caroline, the blue one who Donald recognises from her dark blue spots at the top of her head.

Overtime, young Darlington and Caroline, who he referred to as ‘The Blue One’, grew an inseparable bond together. Donald attended a private school called Durmstring at ages 5-11 years old. As much as his love grew for ‘The Blue One’ his love and passion also grew for science and mathematics.

At secondary school, he went to a public school for the first time ever. He hadn’t noticed that his school’s biggest rule was “NO DRAGONS!” even though it was riddled with bold red sign. Donald Darlington was the first ever student to receive a suspension since the school had opened, in 1963, for bringing in ‘The Blue One’ inside of his pocket.

Sir Darlington is best known for hunting foreign, invasive dragons and his parents for hospitalising  injured or endangered dragons.

Donald is still well know and alive today. However, he has many plans for his elderly life: when/if he stays famous and gains high income, he plans to buy a huge mansion with a large pool in the back for all of his parent’s water dragons that they can’t fit in theirs. On the other hand, he is 48 years old today but still has no passion towards starting his own family. He claims nothing can beat a simple life with his parents until death.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Something was making a noise on the side of the sky-ship. Jack, whose face had a confused look, peeked his head out a little bit to the side of a ripped wall off of the side of the sky-ship and glanced a look to see what it was. However, he saw nothing. “What are you doing?” Scientist Anthony started, “get back to work!” Jack nodded.

Back inside the ship, Jack’s face frowned in disappointment. He was conscious that whatever it was, was in trouble after he heard a slightly painful whimper. It started to rain outside, therefore Jack and the scientist went to fix the ship indoors.

Suddenly, a red light, low down, appeared. Jack woke with a gasp. Cautiously, he checked around to see if something, or somebody, was outside lurking beyond the ship. This time he noticed a pile of rubbish sat under the curve of their ship. Jack looked bewildered and touched it…

“It’s a baby robot!” he screamed  in awe, “oh my goodness!”

Their sky-ship, CloudBullet, soared swiftly through the bright blue sky; its matching blue body-built with the finest steel in Candzar-glowed effortlessly in the golden sun. Jack, exited as ever, spun round in circles and whined, “Are we nearly there yet?”

Before Scientist Anthony could reply, a sudden noise, sounding like a broken television, caught both of their attention. “What was that?” Jack shouted over the blaring sirens, panicked.

“Dunno,” he answered, “But it doesn’t sound good!” he explained, rushing to the controls, trying to regain control.

Crash! They were stuck on Clevern, the land of no survival. Jack walked around the ground beneath him, struggling to believe where he was. Suddenly, green goo gushed out of the broken sky-ship (that has been standing strong for over a decade) along with the same three green blobs that he saw bouncing in the science lab back in Candzar. Jack gasped in fear.

A Northern compass, encrusted with clear rubies,
to locate obstacles in his way.

The world’s highest quality camera-originated from crystals found only in France-
used to capture sweet memories of the beyond.

The finest spear in the county (created from the toughest obsidian in Africa)
to attack rivals.

A purple hydro flask-hand-made by the king of FlaskLand himself-
that holds not only his Starbucks coffee, but also his secrets only to be revealed by him.

A pocket-sized bag of fairy dust, obtained from The Fairy Palace where the tooth fairy lives, to acquire magical powers.

The world’s biggest pair of binoculars-originally designed for a giant’s head-
that allow him to see a wide angle around him to help locate foes behind him.

A flying elephant’s trunk (securely imported from Africa)
that has a never-ending supply of water to drink mysterious liquids out of.

Behold my hated-filled dragon,

An aimlessly cruel beast born from the dark.

Its lifeless eyes glare,

Bleeding with judgement and anger,

Its ripped wings ignited with fire,

Expanding with blinding smoke.

An uncared for tail seamed with cold blood,

Coiled around ready to swing.

Within its wide jaws,

Rusty blood circled the air,

Lingering as much as flies in a pungent garden.

Giggles and chuckles crackle in disastrous victory.

Its rough teeth chewed on flavourful bones,

Its mud covered talons eliminated measly critters,

Sucking the remains of the other animals enjoyably.

Its long, moist slimy tongue licked its lips,

Noticing other little creatures in the undergrowth below.

A bumpy spine sat as stiff as a cliff,

Barely moving an inch.

Its bulky footed legs dragged across the cold ground,

Jumping in shock whenever danger approaches into sight.

Its busy arms grasped onto wet bones and poison ivy,

Advancing closer to its open, saliva-spilling mouth.

Its exhausted paws stomped over to its glacial dark cave,

Sounding heavier within every stride.

Its dry, poorly-hearing ears listen quietly for scuttling critters,

Ready to pounce on any mini beasts nearby.

You are a petrified lion,

Sleeping through the day.

You are a bright night time,

Singing lullaby tunes for the sleeping children.

You are as quiet as a dog barking,

As loud as a sleeping mouse.

You are a waving restaurant,

Attracting customers at lunchtime.

You are the impossibility of

A drowning fish,

A clean pig,

And an enthusiastic egg.

You are the taste of a salty tear,

Belonging to a child after dropping their ice cream.

You are a tree’s branch,

Slythering though the warm breeze.

You are a wild giraffe,

Galloping in the field of trees.

You are the first of the season,

Reaching for Spring’s sun.

You are the opening light in the sky,

Creating a path to heaven.

You are the moon’s brightest stages,

Glowing brighter than fire.

You are the memory of a white christmas.

You are as strong as a brick wall,

As weak as a thin ledge,

And as short as a soldier’s life.

You are as depressing as a Monday morning.

You are as speedy as a ticking clock in the kitchen.

You are as annoying as an eyelash,

Stuck in my eye.