• "Your turn." Tim bounced the ball on the ground and over to Blake. Blake sneered, catching the ball with one hand and throwing with more force than necessary, so that Tim had to reach his arm as far as it would go to catch it. "Why's it always gotta be my turn? It's your turn. Not mine. Yours."

    Tim glared at his elder brother. But, unlike Blake's raw, angry snarl, it was the sort of calm, cool glare that's like the eye of the storm, calm for now but surrounded anger just waiting for the slightest provocation. "Look, neither of us like him. But Monnie'll never forgive us if he starves." Tim sat from his reclined position on the couch and bounced the ball back again.

    "If Monnie like the demon dragon so much then why doesn't Monnie ever feed it?" Blake didn't catch the ball the first time it passed, instead waiting for it to bounce off of the wall behind him behind, catching the soft rubber in his palm. Tim rubbed his eyelids as if he were a thousand years old, "Because Monnie is busy with the amuetars."

    Blake crinkled his nose and nudged Tim's knee with his foot. "If I do it can I take Tighe out for a spin?" Tim looks up at Jason, both eyebrows raised, and cracks a grin. Not the 'yeah that's funny' kind of grin but the 'you're joking, right?' kind of grin. He laughs, more a wavering breath of air and a smile than a laugh, and stands, strectching and sighing at the pops his spine makes. "I'll do it. But if I catch you anywhere near my dragon, I'll lock you up alone in a stall with Vix."

    Blake snorts before following Tim down the hall, branching off into his room while Tim continued on to the stables. Vix, full name Vixen, was a black and yellow-spotted dragon that their older brother Monnie had picked up on a trip to Amity to pick up some medication for a knew dragon disease. Vix was mean and stand-offish, often refusing to be fed by anyone but Monnie.

    Tim and Vix hate each other. Every time Tim gets slated to feed Vix it ends in a stare down, elf versus dragon, each with their nostrils flared in anger. If Vix were to sweep Tim's feet from underneath him, making him fall into the mud, Tim would hex Vix right back, making him break out in red, blistering hives.

    Vix looks up at the clanging of the stable door, hoping for Monnie, but then he sees Tim and snorts, looking back at his stall wall. The disappointment at his precense doesn't go unnticed by Tim, but he doesn't say anything, heading straight for the trough with his scooper and using the leverage possible with his skinny arms to hoist up a whole scoop-full of the stuff, dumping it into Vix's bowl and glaring half-heartedly. "What are you frowning at? If anyone should be frowning because Monnie's not here, it should be mine. Now suck it up and eat your food.

    Vix glares at him and rares his head, hittting Tim right under the chin. Tim glares and goes to swing the bucket at him, but before he can, he's met with horrible comotion outside. He glances at Vix and at the door, then to Vix again, as if deciding which is more deserving of his attention, before throwing the bucket carelessly to the ground and sprinting, flinging the stable doors open.

    The entire dragon farm--house, field, everything but the stable he's in right now--is engulfed in flames.