He felt sick.
Not the ‘I’m stuffed full of cauldron cakes’ sick, but the ‘I’m going to die horribly in front of the whole school’ sick.
He stared at the tiny vicious looking, silver-blue Dragon that had sunk its equally tiny fangs into his thumb, as he tried to shake it off. He wondered vaguely if the small model dragon was a mistake and that his real Swedish Short Snout was a docile herbivore. A beautiful sky-blue creature that would calmly hand him the Golden egg, and offer him a cup of hot, sweet tea.
The dragon seemed to tire of its sport and flew down to the floor, where it glared up at Cedric with pure murderous intent. He looked away quickly, not wanting to aggravate it further. Swallowing he made his way over to the tent door, squinting out in a vain hope to see his dragon, as if a sneaky look would make everything okay. As if that one look would catch the Dragon off guard and it would roll over and surrender or run away in terror.
Maybe it would be afraid of yellow, he thought wildly, glancing down at his robes.
Then he heard his name.
There was nothing for it, he’d have to go out there and face it.
Trust him to be first….
Word count: 206
(Short indeed and really late cos I wasn't brave enough to enter before now My computer clock says half Eleven, but this says half Twelve... I know I changed mine on the right day...)
Edited by JaY (Gears?!?), 20 January 2006 - 11:49 PM.