Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – One Hundred and Fifty-Five

As the sun dipped below the horizon the hunted woman slipped into the forest. Her pursuers kicked their mounts into a triumphant gallop. Stopping at the very edge of the trees they waited for the malevolent entities that ruled the woodland to spit her out.

When her bare feet touched ancient loam their quarry felt hostility, but when the wildwood came to know what it harboured the warmth of welcome spread from her toes to her head.  

She made the change, and turned her saurian eye on the waiting hunters.

The queen dragon roared and the men scattered like chaff.

©️jj 2019

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