The dragonslayer took the ax and turned back toward the corpse.
“Thank you,” he said over his shoulder, and renewed his work. Slowly, blow after blow, the scales relented, exposing the soft flesh to the knight’s assault. The sun grew tired, longing to rest from its labor, and the shadows lengthened over all. The warm colors of sunset and the cool air of night and the first star shining in the sky—the head came from the body.
The knight stopped, covered in gore, and turned to find the faithful princess waiting patiently.
“It’s done,” he panted. “It is dead.”
Tale Told 