Stealing from a Dragon - KA Short

🦐

Dracomarinus’s shelf loomed ominously overhead, a mountain of wood, glass, and metal. It was scarcely illuminated by moonlight that streamed through a crack in the drapes where the sheer fabric curtains poked through. In the dim light, the gargantuan body of the prawn could be made out, resting in his den and occasionally, drowsily flicking his whip-like antennae.

The beastly size of this prawn cannot be understated, reader. He was huge, the size of your hand or longer with gangly arms the same length, each a brilliant shade of blue to contrast his drab, light brown body. The glass aquarium he was kept in looked like it should house a small horde of fish, yet there was only him, for he was so voracious he would devour anything else.

Now, compare this to Bullet and Moss, a velvet ant and blue death feigning beetle respectively. Neither insect was much larger than two centimeters.

Despite this, Bullet looked up at Draco and felt no dread. All she could think of was the edible gold stored at the top. The creatures of the house were all eager to trade for them—the food was rich and flavorful, or at least nutritious, and there was no way to get it except from Bullet. No other creature dared venture near Draco’s lair, let alone rob him.

Moss, meanwhile, was focused on the hazy outline of giant blue claws. In the morning, when the Giant was out of the house and the bugs were free to roam, he sometimes glimpsed Draco eating, tearing pre-killed fish and worms to shreds. It was easy to imagine what those giant claws could do to a little insect. This was a terrible idea, but Bullet needed another pair of claws to carry the food. She’d also offered him a taste of algae for his efforts.

“Alright,” Bullet said, “You won’t have to go up on the shelf. Just wait under the top of it.” She watched Moss to see if he understood before continuing. “I’ll pass you as much food as you can carry, then grab as much food as I can carry, and we’ll both head down and go home. Just don’t go all the way down without me, we don’t know what spiders or centipedes might be out.”

Moss shuddered. “Okay,” he said, “Just be careful.”

“I always am.”

And so, the climb began. Bullet found the height quaint. In her time as a wild creature and a pet in the house, she had travelled distances much greater than Draco’s puny tower.

Moss was born in the house, and a slow, easy-going animal. He dreaded the long trip but feared its seemingly endless height more. It reminded him of a giant bird leering down in search of a meal. And now he was climbing it.

By the time they reached the top of the shelf, the floor was a void stretching onwards in every direction, too low to be touched by moonlight. At the same time, the conflicting smells of meat and algae wafted from their plastic containers above. Moss’s fear abated somewhat as he caught a whiff. He was now curious about the taste of this supposed “edible gold” Bullet proffered. He clung beneath the top of the shelf as instructed while Bullet continued to climb. As the thick scent of Draco’s water box reached him, his anxiety attacked viciously, and he was left fighting to ensure he didn’t instinctively play possum.

Bullet continued upwards until she was standing on the shelf. She had strategically crested the lip of the wood behind the containers of food, assuming Draco could notice her from behind the glass and was likely able to grab her with his long arms. Whether this was true she didn’t know, but Draco was rumored to have snatched and eaten wandering bugs before—better safe than sorry.

Once she had done that, she sniffed around the containers to ensure she had the right ones. With her treasure found, she grabbed onto the lid of her first target, a cylinder of meat flakes, and began to wiggle it loose. Centimeter by centimeter, she twisted the large lid until it began to come free.

Now came the hard part.

Bullet peeked around the lid of the flake-container. Draco lay motionless in his lair.

“Moss,” she whispered, “Get ready to grab some food. And let me know when your arms are full.”

“Readying myself,” Moss stammered back.

At last, Bullet heaved the top of the container to the side, just enough that she could stick her head and forelegs in and get the flakes. She grabbed clawfuls of them and hurled them down in Moss’s direction until he meekly said “I can’t carry anymore.”

Now it was her turn.

She looked into the aquarium again and saw Draco’s antennae flicking. Unable to tell if he was dreaming or waking, Bullet decided she would skip the algae pellets and focus on the meat. She snatched up a pile of fish flakes large enough to partly obscure her vision before she started to climb down, not before using her midlegs to pull the lid back on. Figuring she didn’t have the time, she left it unscrewed.

When she was satisfied with her work, she glanced at Draco’s lair one last time and found it empty.

Were it not for the daunting drop and potential predators below, Moss would have seized up and played dead the moment he heard the thunderous splash from above. He knew immediately what the noise was.

Draco was awake!

For all his size, Dracomarinus was barely visible in the dark as he climbed the edge of his aquarium and leaped from the water.

Bullet took a second to assess her situation, then slid down from the container and rushed for the edge of the shelf. Behind her, a heavy thud indicated that Draco was hot on her tail. His pointed feet scrabbled against the wood as he gave chase. Loudly, he smacked into the flake container and reached his gigantic arms forward.

Snap-snap!

Bullet narrowly dodged a claw swipe. She chanced a look behind her and only saw long, jointed arms striking out from the darkness. Behind those, two shining dots glowered, the only other part of Draco the moon made clearly visible. Another snap narrowly missed her antenna.

“Moss! Jump down!” Bullet shouted as she approached the edge of the shelf.

Moss didn’t need to be told twice. He let go of the shelf and careened to the ground.

Bullet was about to follow when Draco slammed both gangly arms down, trapping her in a huge pen with deadly, snapping pincers for exit gates.

“Uh oh,” Bullet said. Instinctively, the tiny clicking bones of her abdomen began to rub together, producing a signature velvet ant war cry. The sound alone would have driven off most predators Draco’s size, but Draco was no ordinary animal.

He began to draw his arms closer to his face, intending to force Bullet to drop the meal and clamber away or be eaten alongside the flakes.

Instead, Bullet ran towards his elbow, reared up, and jammed her stinger into the exposed flesh in the joint before he could grab her.

Dracomarinus hissed in pain, drawing both his arms toward him quick as a mantis strike. Had he not been distracted by his injury, he might have noticed he’d swept Bullet close enough to eat. Instead, she made another run for the shelf edge, this time flinging herself off and dropping to the floor unharmed and two piles of meat flakes richer.

“Moss! Moss, are you alright?” Bullet shouted once she’d gotten to her feet.

Moss bumped his fuzzy head into her. The thick smell of fish flakes wafted from him, and Bullet was relieved he’d manage to hold onto his bounty. “No thanks to you!” he said.

“You’re right, that could’ve gone better, but it could’ve gone worse. I’m sorry I didn’t get you any fresh algae pellets, I didn’t have the time. But you can have some older ones from my stash.”

“Hmph. Let’s just go home before Draco tries to follow us.”

“We should stick to the furniture and dark corners, while we’re at it, all that racket might’ve woken the Giant up.”

🐉

Dracomarinus watched, irritated, as the tasty morsel disappeared into the dark, dry vastness of the floor and out of his reach. He held his injured arm limp on the cold surface of the shelf. As he contemplated cutting it off to get rid of the throbbing pain, he found it was finally beginning to ebb, and he could move the limb as normal again.

Once that happened, he suspected that it had been a dry sting, or that he was too big for the venom to work effectively. He knew little about ants or wasps, but he’d seen them jab their pointed rears into other insects from the safety of his lair and witnessed their victims' swift deaths.

What a shame the meal had escaped him.

But Draco wasn’t so vain or wasteful as to let perfectly good, pre-killed food go to waste. Before his gills dried up, he resolved to knock off the lid of the fish flake cylinder and replenish his strength.

Unfortunately, right as he was doing that, the ceiling lights flicked on and the Giant stomped over to him. It grabbed him like a kitten—by the back of his carapace—immobilizing him with ease. It made some odd noises at him, as if criticizing him for stealing the flakes. If only it had shown up earlier! And anyway, those containers were in his territory, it wasn’t like he could steal from himself.

However, it must’ve been more amused than wrathful. It dropped him back in his tank and left. The lights turned off again and Draco was left to his own devices.

He swam into his den, grumbling and grousing the whole way. If another bug showed its face around his territory, he wouldn’t let it slip away so easily!