Rosaline

“Hello boys,” I said, swishing my tail back and forth.

The guards merely pointed their spears at me.

“What, no taunts? Usually, you guys get a few words in before you start trying to stab,” I quipped, snorting smoke out of my nostrils.

“You will be dead, monster,” a short, rotund man said. He stood behind his soldiers. Coward.

“We’ll see,” I replied, extending my wings and taking to the air.

The soldiers jabbed their spears uselessly up into the air, looking pathetic. No archers. No catapults. No way to reach me from the air. Why did the fat guy look so calm?

Instinct told me to roll right, and I did and heard the whistle of an arrow go by my ear. A single arrow?

I spiraled up into the air, making myself a smaller target. I had to find the archer. The arrow had grazed my ear and already it was burning.

Rubbing my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I felt the familiar taste of iron before I opened my jaws to let lightning strike the large carriage I saw.

It exploded, wooden pieces flying everywhere. The rest of the wood that remained was on fire. Several of the pieces had pierced soldiers, who had dropped their weapons and fallen to the ground.

The round man was also lying on the ground with a large wooden slat sticking through his chest. Dead, definitely.

I dove and an arrow whistled above my head. The archer was still alive. But I didn’t see them.

The burning in my ear had now spread to my head, giving me a painful headache and making it hard to focus.

I dropped and heard another arrow whistle above my head.

My luck wouldn’t last for much longer.