The Dragon and the Crone

The Dragon and the Crone

The old crone stood and watched the young in body, mind and spirit enter his lair. They never
came out. The great dragon bellowed and shook the earth, sent boulders rolling down
mountainsides, cracked the emerald greens into great crooked maws. Those brave of heart made both splendid and regular meals for the creature within.

She turned her ear toward his dreadful bellowing, and her heart danced to the cadence of his fury, her soul delighted in the veiled power unleashed never in whole, only in glimpses of its potential annihilation. She heard within the hateful roaring, hissing, screaming cacophony, a kindred spirit. She heard more than the roar, she heard the pain.

After a time, having tired of the dragon’s clamor, the wizened old crone entered his home
without pretense or pause, and proclaimed loudly to the beast within, “I’ve grown weary of your
dreadful bellyaching, come and let’s get this settled before you deafen me.”

The huge, vulgar beast sidled forth from the pitch, his fetid breath ripe with the rotting flesh
dangling from his hideous snout and steaming from between his jutting teeth. His growls
surpassed the human ear and moved instead, through the flesh and heart, a reverberation of
impending death. The great behemoth hissed and slid his head low to cow the old crone, to taste
her fear before her flesh.

For her part, the old crone, impatient and put off by such fantastical displays, thumped the
creature upon the snout, demanding he part his great jaws. As he obliged so as to snap her in
twain, she leaned within, plucked from his swollen, puss ridden gum a sharp, shattered femur embedded there and tossed the broken bone aside, never giving thought to the dragon’s murderous intentions.

“Now, you hideous beast,” snapped the old crone as she turned and shuffled from the lair, “find
some other malady about which to sing.”

Oh, the great dragon continued to make meals of the brave and foolish who entered his lair.
However, he ever spared the old crone his jagged maelstrom of daggers. For the great beast
recognized the only one who accepted his appetite and fearlessly maintained his implements.

Author's Note

Having written this short "fable" of sorts, I know exactly what is intended to mean; however, I absolutely adore reading everyone else's interpretation. So, let me here your interpretations! (Please and thank you.)