Boy, did I get it all wrong.
The Missus Dragon, smiled her most melting smile, as sickly sweet as her own homemade blueberry muffin, that the said starving prisoner was scoffing at a speed of light, one would think the poor wee lamb had been subsiding on a solitary baked bean a day. The crumbs were everywhere, his face smeared with purple juices, he was not nearly as smoochable now.
But I had another issue on my plate. That old dragon was whispering to Zen ,very agitated indeed. He nodded his head sympathetically, taking notes in his small pocket,scruffy,well used mini booklet ,which was titled,"MISDEMEANORS" in heavy black capital letters.
They both looked over at me. I did not like the smug tone of the look one bit.
"Not only was that wily wench trying to steal the ponies, she was after my poor innocent husband too, let him
finish out his sentence in peace. Off with her head,I say," was the essence of it. The dragon was holding the sheriff's hand tightly. She did not let go.
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