The bathtub was awash with foaming bubbles. Luminescent scales sparkled in the light as the dragon writhed and flexed her body. The warm water soothed her muscles as she soaked away the soot and cinders of the battle.
It had been a huge battle in the skies above the castle ramparts. Fiery flashes illuminated the night as the two dragons roared and soared around each other, each searching for that weak chink in the other’s armoured scales. At last the purple dragon stabbed with its back claw and found the chink. The black dragon spiralled down, crashing into the forest below.
The victor landed on the North tower, folding her tired wings and surveyed the courtyard. It was empty. “That’s strange”, she thought, “Where has everyone gone?”
Surely she had landed back in the right castle. She stomped down the stairwell calling out as she went. Down she descended into the lair beneath the castle. The delicious smell of cooking grew stronger the closer she got to the kitchen fires. She was famished after her hard work. She longed to fill her empty belly. She sneaked into the kitchen hoping to grab a bite to eat.
“Oh no you don’t – not until you get washed up – there will be no supper for you. Off to the bathtub with you – and don’t come out until those scales are scrubbed clean! And just where is your brother? He had better not be late for supper either”
She smiled. She loved her bath-time.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, July Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’