Why I Like Dragons

I like dragons because apparently my idea of a perfect creature is something that could burn down a village but might also let me scratch under its chin. There’s just so much room for possibility. Ancient, wise dragon guarding forgotten magic? Yes. Tiny dragon sleeping in a teacup? Also yes. Grumpy forest dragon covered in moss who reluctantly decides you’re its person? I’m already emotionally attached.

And honestly, I understand the hoarding. You have a cave full of shiny things that make you happy, and you get upset when someone touches them? That’s me with my yarn and craft supplies. I just don’t have wings or an effective way to breathe fire yet.

I think I love that dragons can be powerful and strange and still be gentle with something they care about. Also, I want one. That’s probably the most honest explanation.