Uprooted

Our Dragon doesn't eat the girls he takes, no matter what stories they tell outside our valley.


“I don't want more sense!” I said loudly, beating against the silence of the room. “Not if sense means I'll stop loving anyone. What is there besides people that's worth holding on to?”


That was a story, too; they all had stories. They had mothers or fathers, sisters or lovers. They weren't alone in the world, mattering to no one but themselves. It seemed utterly wrong to treat them like pennies in a purse.