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K |
athy's mouth suddenly went dry, and her legs nearly went
out from under her as the immense bulk of the Red dragon loomed up before her, filling
the narrow defile and cutting her off from the rest of the party.
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She remembered reading somewhere that although hyenas can be savage, at heart they're craven
cowards. She vaguely recalled having been offended by this comment, offended enough to
have written a strongly-worded letter to the editor of the encyclopedia. However, now,
as she lost control of her bodily functions, she realized the truth to that observation.
The dragon was huge, huger by far than any living thing she'd ever seen. Its body was
completely covered by plates of horn the color of cinnabar; scales the size of manhole covers,
with hardly any leathery flesh visible between them. The dragon's chest was an expanse
of dull yellow armor; and far, far above, its green eyes burned like phosphor flares in a
face that was at once both horrible and beautiful. Between its heavy, backward-curving
horns, it bore a sparkling gemstone that sparkled in the light of the morning sun that had
not yet reached down into the arroyo.
The dragon exuded an odor that was impossible to describe, except to compare it to burning
diapers; sulphur and smoke, and something else that gripped Kathy's nostrils and throat in
a toxic choke-hold, robbing her of her senses. Over the whirling pounding in her ears,
she thought she heard Florence cry, "Look out! It's the Red Dragon! And it's got Kathy!"
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