In which dawn approaches

It was almost dawn. The dragon was up and about and so filled with excitement he couldn’t eat. He was leaving at dawn with the minotaur and the king for his first ever manly hunting party. He wandered the corridors, looking and watching for that first ray of light to hit a window. It would be soon.

The supplies were packed and loaded onto the two horses that would be accompanying the king on his journey. It was a good packing job, and the king was quite pleased with himself. He had done it all alone, in an effort to recapture his forgotten youth, and it had worked. He had started while the stars were out, and as the grey of dawn approached, he felt a thrill of adventure and intrigue. His daughter was safe, with a suitable suitor. They would spend lots of time together and of course as all good love stories go, they would fall in love and marry. His future was bright, and adventure was nigh. He took a deep breath and sighed with contentment. Life was good.

The minotaur had stood in the shadows watching the king pack. He was intrigued at how energetic the man seemed, and felt a little twinge of excitement himself. It would be a good trip, he knew it, if only that blasted dragon would keep himself under control. Dawn was coming. Where was that creature anyway?

In which dawn approaches

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