Dreaming of Fireflies *rewrites*

11 | Day [Day to Night] Part 1

  The next day...

   I needed a plan if I wanted to survive my homecoming. In the space where my great and wonderful plan should have been? A grumble from my empty stomach. Raiding the stores of the barn for what was still good did produce a few edible items. I cooked ideas up and took something to go with me.

   I need real food if I'm going to squat for any length of time. Packing up a bag, and pulling my sling close to my body, I headed outside. I had to leave behind the puppies to sleep off the daytime lethargy. Hellhounds are nocturnal but can function in the day time. I don't want to draw attention to them in case I need to go into the store and steal.

   An on foot walk to the grocery store in the heat of the day. The plan dumpster dive for dinner. You would be shocked at how much normal stuff they throw out unopened, or sell off for a penny in store. The sell by date is almost done. Only have to look carefully you will probably find something.

   A couple of days here won't hurt. I can stay until they bring down the shield. No one will know. Crossing the street away from The Dragon's property is the smartest course of action. He's my only neighbor left on the dead end street.

   Down the street, I pass by the EAT ME gardening service trailer. I stop in my tracks. Five people in red Save Animals Now action shirts, are watching the goats eating back all the weeds, and blackberry bushes.

Are they stealing the goats?

No, they're not that stupid-

   I look around for the owner of the goat service on The Dragon's property.There has to be someone to scare off the animal rights activities? I've been next door neighbors with The Dragon my whole life. The biggest rule my brother told me about living next door to The Dragon? Never bother The Dragon. If a ball flies into The Dragon's property it belongs to The Dragon now.

   The Dragon lives fourteen minutes drive from the Sacramento Capitals steps. It's slightly crazy when you think about it. Rice fields, cows, and a heck of a lot of deep magic, just a few miles from downtown Sacramento. The state capital of California with wildfire alerts and The Dragon is flying run for your life public service announcements. It boggles the mind that a dragon lives in the deep magic. Elves, Werewolves, maybe a Vampire, or two but a mother fucking dragon?

   Now these animal rights activists were about to break a golden rule don't fuck with The Dragon. Everyone will have to pay for their mistake. I was about a half mile away from the barn. If I wanted to turn back and run to the shield, I could sprint. I can smoke the neo-hippies in a foot race, while he makes dinner out of them.

They aren't going to steal the goat's, they aren't that stupid?

   A deep throated lusty bellow, "baaaaa," wafts across the air from the ram mounting the goat. His collar with the lead rope waves in the wind near the fence that keeps the small herd on the property. The herd munches away on the weeds on, with that fresh green scent of cut greens in the air. The young man's hand reaches out to the goats dangling lead rope.

"Don't!" Like a fool, I opened my mouth.

   "Don't take the goats on The Dragon's property. Steal them on someone else's property. Anyone else's property." I yelled across the street, "don't do it."

   The three young women stop, but the two neo-hippy guys in dreads keep reaching for the goat anyway. I get ready to bolt fuck the hippies. The older hippy guy steps over the electric fencing, and he can't miss that magic yellowish stuff wraps around him. It traps him like a fly on sticky tape, able to flutter but not able to fly away.