ORIGIN

The air was still.

The water, however, was not.

Stirring just under the depths, a huntress was creeping forward, her eyes on the lookout for her next gruesome meal. She was a ball of fire just under the murky water, ready to explode.

Anyone who dared encroach on the dragon's territory would feel her tiny, needle teeth.

Merrow didn't give a cave rat's tail who this guy was or what he wanted. She drew ever closer, going completely still under the water. She waited.

Oh, she waited. If it wasn't for the instinct her father's-- the scales of her dragon hide, not the wings-- blood had given her, she might have just lunged for the bird immediately.

As it was, she was technically supposed to be an ambush predator so she gave it a shot. She waited.

And waited.

The bird went to get a drink...

And Merrow lunged, roaring squeak breaking from her throat.

Merrow had successfully snapped at the oversize turkey.

Unfortunately for her, her nip to the beak wasn't enough to, uh, convince the bird to fall dead into an early crypt. Instead, the big bastard decided to peck at her! With a squeal, she flopped into the water as the beak hit her wing, and she thrashed about trying to summon some fire to deter his attacks.

She was, after all, supposed to be eating HIM, not the other way around. Of course, most people would suggest not lighting yourself on fire to pre-roast yourself if you didn't want to get eaten, but Merrow was a simple little baby dragon.