The storm pt3
#4 of Practice shorts
Again errors in the form of buckets
We did it, I don't know how but we did, but we did. We somehow managed to get all of the drakes in top the cellar with us, every last one.
There was Teka an emerald drake, she was only a few months old and had grown to be 2 feet long, and her wingspan was double that. There was Slon; he was a fully mature drake at 15 feet long and twice as stubborn, we had to drag him down into the cellar by force. Lastly was Mala and her five eggs, Mala was the mother as well as a soft pink. It had seemed as though Mala knew the storm was coming, the moment we opened the cellar she had started taking her eggs down by herself.
We often breed the drakes for a fee; my pa was one of the few people who could keep the young ones healthy. Most breeders had no clue what they were doing, especially when it came to hatching the eggs. My dad would boast about he has only ever lost one Drake pup who had caught crack scale from a bad patch of Riden grass, a type of grain he fed to them to help them keep their teeth clean.