Write about an apex predator in your world. How does it hunt and survive?
Encounter the Dragon
You are the hero.Your quest has been long but now, at the end of your journey, at the apex of the hill, You see your prize.
A golden apple? Forbidden fruit? Fleece from a flying golden ram?
Whatever it is hangs from a tree, as always, and between you and the fulfillment of all your dreams the predator awaits.
The dragon.
The serpent.
The guardian of secrets.
"How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?"
A riddle!
Was this not what the old lady warned? The dragon is wily and holds forbidden wisdoms. This one, like a sphinx, plays with its meal.
"I know not this . . . tutzipop? The word is foreign to my tongue."
The dragon roars! Or laughs. Perhaps it has more humor than appetite.
"Then riddle me this instead. how many teeth are in the mouth of a dragon?"
"Um . . . "
"No peeking!" It clamps shut its mouth and talks through closed lips. "That would be cheating!"
A wrong answer, and you'll be eaten. Run away, and you'll be eaten. Attack the creature, and you'll be eaten. So you think, and you think, and you think, and you think, and you smile. "An even one-hundred!"
The serpent smile fades. "How do you figure?"
"Cadmus killed one such as yourself at the founding of seven-gated Thebes. A monster! A terror! A . . . um . . . no offense?"
"None taken," says the dragon, "Go on."
"He harvested the teeth, planted them in holy soil, and fifty warriors sprang up."
"That's fifty," says the dragon. "How did you arrive at a hundred?"
"And another fifty at Colchis to challenge Jason. Those were said to be of the same source."
"Perhaps there were more," the dragon suggests. "Perhaps Cadmus set aside three batches of fifty, or five, or ten. Perhaps he discarded a remainder, to make an even number."
You falter, filled with self-doubt, "But no! Cadmus was a prudent man, founder of a city, the sort who would use half and keep half, fifty and fifty out of a hundred. Aetes was a tyrant, the arrogant son of a god, who used his full force to destroy a perceived threat, fifty out of fifty. There could be no more."
"Excellent!" the dragon roars. "You have slain me. Take your reward."
"Truly?" you ask, ever wary. "How can this be?"
"My kind are predators of thought, not flesh. Safe from us are sheep and cattle, creatures of the forest, and the crunchy bones of men. My kind consume logical falicies, false premises, deduction errors, non-sequiturs, and on, and on. We hunt by dangling shiny baubles of wisdom and prey on the fools who try to collect. You have provided no meat today, and for that, the wisdom you seek is yours."
"But what of you?" you ask with concern. "As ages pass and men grow wise, with every discovery, with every advancement, as literature and art collect and advance humanity toward universal truth, what happens to dragons who feed only on foolishness?"
The dragon roars! but this time, you recognize the laughter.
"Have you seen the world of men?" the dragon asks. "My kind will survive and thrive in your world forever."
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