Tater becomes increasingly frustrated with the lack of guidance his species’ history affords a dragon in today’s world.
Drizzle conspires against her own sleep schedule yet again.
On a quiet suburban street, on a pleasant spring evening, a fearsome, fire-breathing monster contemplates his past and present.
And another bloodthirsty, airborne terror plays with her tofu blocks.
In which we discover that Drizzle is not merely thoughtful, but prone to bouts of sudden and intense melancholy.
Drizzle’s apartment is more than enough for one single young adult dragon. But it’s no Taj Mahal.
Tater, you’ve never been to Bosnia. How do you know what their internet is like?
Possibly just a little bit of a time management issue.
And then turn north, then burrow 10 cubes down, switch the 4th lever, climb into the boat…
No, Drizzle. The ‘H’ key stands for something else.
I have a work ethic, it just only gets expressed in activities with no tangible benefit whatsoever.