I spent many a day on this dragon. I was riding him, and he didn't seem to mind the burden. In fact, after a time it became evident that he had no intention of ever setting me down, and I had to make a dive for it. As luck would have it I landed in a great briar patch which broke my fall if nothing else. I still have the marks of those scratches, and I lay for what seemed like many days, watching the stars wheel overhead, hearing the slow growth and groaning of the living things around me. Still he circles in my sky, on an evening of blue moon. So don't ask me why do I choose to live in this briar patch. It's just common sense.

A dragon lives forever,
but not so little boys.