picture by Sphinx
The man with the scary dogs reached down and placed something in front of her nose. It was round and red and smelled good.
Drago stretched her neck a little to pick it up and eat it. It tasted good, too.
The man put down another. This one was a little further away.
Drago looked up at him and squawked a comlaint, but he only laughed.
"No, no, you'll have to get up and get it."
Drago eyed the red thing. The first one had tasted really good. She yawned, stretched her wings and climbed out of her comfortable padded box.
The second one tasted just as good and then there was a third one behind it, and a fourth a little to the left ... five, six, seven ...
The eighth was on top of an upturned box and Drago had to climb onto it before she could reach the ninth.
Down again for number ten. Eleven, twelve, thirteen ...
She had to stretch up high and flap her wings to steady herself to reach number fourteen which was stuck in a hole in the wall. That prompted some loud laughter which made her flinch and squak, but the men only laughed more.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen ... now up a row of boxes arraged into a makeshift stair.
Ninteen, twenty, twenty-one ... She was on a chair now.
Twenty-two ... A book on the chair.
Twenty-three, twenty-four ... On the table.
Twenty-five, twenty-six ... a slalom course between mugs and cups ... twenty-seven, twenty-eight ... A pot in front of her?
And there inside ...
"Just what are you doing with my dragon, Harry?"