i'm sorry, i keep giving yall cliffhangers. i should have the next chapter out by Thursday... or maybe Friday... or who knows really... i have definitely not been reading all the time *quickly shoves Wingfeather Saga under the bed* nope, no, definitely not. sorry, this is so short. not only have i been reading but i've been working on an animation project, hiking, and cross-country skiing [aka cross country falling] so... i haven't had much time. okay I've had a lot of time. sorry. Also, sorry bout the cliffhanger again... don't be too mad at me yet. YET. Also, Dragon Ridge Hill was the only name i could think of, so now i have to write a whole short story about Fleck finding a dragon *sighs* okay i'll do it tomorrow.

Fleck didn’t think. To be honest, there was no time to think. The whole Dragon Ridge hill was swarming with wolves and a few birds. Morbinson himself flew into the air, watching the young warrior.

He’s scared of me. Fleck thought. It gave him hope, a hope that spread and gave him more energy. Morbinson shrieked.

It happened pretty quickly. Fleck glanced behind him. One Breath. Lokson knocked Nat safely into a small, protected nook. Another breath. Lokson drew his sword. A third. Fleck was surrounded by wolves. Hundreds of hungry wolves, with glittering eyes.

Fleck tried to quickly form a plan in his head. If Morbinson falls, these wolves will fall back. But if Perkyn was right, the dragon still lives under this hill. He’ll either come to my aid or more likely slay me, too. I just need to fight.

It was simple. Fleck tightened his grip on the sword hilt and charged forward. He didn’t have to go very far before the wolves sprung. Claws tore at him, but he tore back with his sword.

No one hurts my friends. He thought.

“Till the End!” Lokson yelled, joining the fight. Nat was reaching for his sword.

Pretty quickly, Stretch charged down a nearby hill, his cloak streaming out behind him, Followed by a very angry looking Bastille. Oh Great. Fleck thought. Just what I need, my wonderful brother almost getting killed too.

“Fleck listen to me!” Bastille yelled. Fleck hadn’t realized she was yelling at him. “You can’t fight this battle! And, your name isn’t Fleck.”

Fleck barely had time to consider these things. Was my life all lies? He wondered before putting his energy back into fighting.

It took almost an hour, but soon the wolves were gone. Fleck sheathed his sword, looking around him. Nothing.

Above, he could hear a strange sound. Morbinson. Before Fleck could act, a sword pinned his shoulder intro the ground.

Fleck was surprised, but not to surprised to shout, “Go! Go to Cloud Mountain as fast as you can! And stay there!” to his friends.

Stretch, always the last to leave, yelled back. “I won’t lose you Fleck, not again, not ever!”

“Just go!” I yelled. Slowly, they left. Good, now I can use all my energy here.

It took a lot for Fleck to fight with one arm pinned to the ground. Morbinson looked ready to pin Fleck’s other arm down, but he dodged, taking a serious injury to his side.

Now Morbinson was mad. Fleck had no other choice but to trust the Maker and throw his sword.

The sparkly blade flew through the rain and hit right where Fleck aimed. Morbinson was dead.

Fleck didn’t have the strength to do anything but lay there.

“Fleck!” The voice sounded familiar…. He couldn’t quite place it.

“Perkyn, where’s the dragon?” That was Stretch. Perkyn. The Forest Guard. That all seemed so far off to Fleck at that moment.

“I don’t see it, Stretch. Fleck must have locked it up good all those years ago.”

“Stretch! Perkyn!” Fleck tried to yell. But the young warrior faded into unconsciousness before he could hear their replies.

See, Yet! No one dies yet. emphasis on yet. okay, yes, you guessed it, i'm bored. I may have written this when i was bored too.

-Fleck Cove, the one who has to write a dragon story, signing out.