The Golden Goat WIP (Part 6)(WIP)

By StickyScribbles

A young goat nuzzled the old farmer as he diligently tapped a narrow wooden board above the marshy shore. It blissfully lowered its head for a sip of water. The kid watched curiously as its reflection dissolved into a strange ripple. Suddenly, an urgent snort snapped the herd's attention toward the horizon. Ears perked as a menacing cloud of dust churned toward them.

The old farmer gently set down his hammer and soothed the anxious kid with a tender pat. Through every burning village or siege, simple farmers didn't load their wagons with gold or ancient heirlooms. They fled with their furry companions and family. Even on uncertain days, beneath ashen skies and across barren lands, they fed their animal companions in the morning before tending to themselves.

Today, they were steadfast, and there would be no more running. The old farmer slowly rose and signaled the goats to "go play" with their new guest. He issued a familiar yet silent gesture of ramming his balled fist into an open palm, before his hand disappeared into his sleeve. The young goats baaed with dark joy, instantly recognizing their favorite game.

The bee-stung, honey-soaked terror arrived at their marshy doorstep. The dragon gave a buzzing rasp, booming with outrage at their treachery. With only the aggressive billies and the goat elder standing guard, a quick roast should have been easy pickings.

The dragon thrashed to clear a path to the water. Just as it leaned in to drink and clear its swollen, sticky throat before unleashing its fire, a youngling dashed forward, rammed the beast's snout, and dove instantly beneath the surface.

The dragon snarled at being denied a drink. Its shadow loomed over the goats with a drooling, sharp-fanged maw. "Fine, I'll settle for goat soup instead," it roared with a cruel laugh and lunged. A second wave of agile goats jabbed at the dragon's lower jaw, forcing the beast to bite its own tongue. The swimming goat slipped into the murky water to hide while the enraged dragon gave chase along the narrow wooden decks.

Deeper and farther into the morass the dragon charged, snapping at the rails just inches behind the fleeing kids. It smashed the wooden walkways to pieces, hoping to drop them into its jaws, but every violent swipe only mired its heavy body deeper into the sucking mud.

Realizing it was being led in circles, the mud-soaked dragon turned to claw its way back to solid ground. But by then the pursuing goat herd had caught up, forming a charging line to drive the beast back into the marshy depths. The earth bubbled and groaned hungrily beneath its massive weight. To make matters worse, the goats began to pounce and pound around the helpless dragon. The scaled mountain thrashed frantically, its bogged limbs drowning in its own rage.

In desperation the dragon strained its neck to keep its head barely above the slosh. The goats recklessly continued their assault, churning the loose earth into a heavy, suffocating clay.

(Part 1):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2658372

(Part 2):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2677041

(Part 3):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2677043

(Part 4):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2704926

(Part 5):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2712471

(Part 6):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2726342

The Golden Goat (Part 5) v4

By StickyScribbles

The human goat farmers were as busy as bees. They scrambled to unload their sweet wares into the flower field before their towering, scaled guest. The dragon clicked his talons together impatiently. If this tribute was unsatisfactory to his taste, he could always sort their soft and crunchy bits for later. Then perhaps dip them into sweet cream and honey or relish a slow dragon roast combining a porridge of goats, humans, and fairies.

The dragon couldn't decide which to try first. Why not both? He leaned forward, his jaws dripping as they opened wide.

A scarred fairy dashed in, riding atop a young goat. Together they had stared down volcanic death before, and they were prepared to do so again if needed. They coldly greeted the dragon. They reminded him that he needed the farmers alive to complete his temple. Great dragons should not spoil their feast of honey and milk.

The dragon paused and scoffed. "I suppose," he mused, "that all great dragons should be merciful, if only to keep the tap running."

He unrolled his tail to reveal two large jars and jiggled one with a chuckle. The jar hummed to life with the desperate rattle of a dozen trapped fairies inside. It eased the anxiety of the fellow goats to know their fairy friends were in one piece. But what about the other jar?

The dragon unceremoniously opened the second jar's lid, then announced his royal taste tester would check for quality, approval, and ill-prepared sweets. Nothing came out save for a long, deep snore. Disgusted, the dragon flipped the jar upside down and tapped the bottom to eject its sleepy contents. The Sandman landed face-first on the ground with a plop, like a clay sloth. Unbothered, the Sandman got back up, rubbed his nose and big mustache, and squinted.

Could this sea of honey vessels be real? The Sandman wondered if the dragon could have eaten him while he slept, and heaven was now pulling a feverish dream as a prank. The dragon eagerly ushered the slumbering creature back to reality before his scaled kin arrived. They would undoubtedly botch the plan or ravage everything, leaving nothing to share.

The Sandman took a leap of faith and dove arm-deep into the first set of plain jars filled with raw honey. He wiggled his feet against the jars as he climbed in. They contained generous chunks of honeycomb harvested fresh before the morning dew. The Sandman enjoyed the delightful texture and quickly downed several large jars bigger than himself, citing that the amber sweetness was worth eating all morning.

The fairies and goats had brought enough tribute to stuff two dragons, and now wondered if they had brought enough. If the portions weren't to the dragon's liking, it could end poorly. At least someone was having a delightful time.

The dragon sternly lifted the Sandman into the air by his pajama collar. He then roughly pressed the Sandman's face to a new set of glazed vessels for indulging a bit too much. The Sandman only snorted at the sweets, this time taking in handfuls of amber glaze. It was smooth, thick, and pure sweetness between his cheeks. The Sandman couldn't help but give his nodding approval with each scoop, one after another, his belly already swelling.

All that remained to taste were the ornate, jeweled vessels of royal honey. "Sample and tread lightly," the dragon growled, adjusting his grip on the pajama collar. "You are my royal taste tester, not some honey-goblin-fiend."

The Sandman nodded and peeled back some of the gold-leaf, wax-cloth seal. The sweet aroma hummed to life in his nostrils and sticky hands. The fermented, spiced royal honey was a fabled taste, worthy of kings and gods to feast upon. The Sandman sampled only a fingerful and rolled it around on his tongue. His toes curled in delight, leaving the corner of his mouth drooling. This was the best vintage in the lot. The Sandman couldn't help wanting to dive deep into the ornate jar. He was only to be halted by the dragon, who noticed the horizon darkening with a distant flock of scaled kin. There was no time to waste.

"You have done well, Sandman," thundered the dragon. "However, this heavenly sweet dew is fit for dragons!"

The dragon snatched several royal jars of honey from the Sandman and quickly gobbled his wanton share. Oh, what a blessing these peons had harvested such sweet nectar! The jar started to vibrate as the dragon was lost in his sweet gloats. Wait, what was this grainy buzzing in his throat? The dragon's eyes bulged as thousands of trapped bees danced and stung his pipes.

"Treacherous goats!?!" In his throes of pain, he thrashed, knocking the Sandman far away and cracking open the hostile vessels to set the fairies free.

The goats stomped hooves feet and bellowed a "BAAHHH" war cry, rear-kicking more bee-honey-vessel grenades at the dragon's wings. The dragon desperately tried to fly, but was grounded by a fog of stings. The scarred fairy led the charge, denouncing the winged glutton.

An ambush wave of goats burst out of grass-covered foxholes to ram the dragon off a nearby cliff. However, a fully awake and seething dragon was more than a match. A single swing of his tail sent them flying into the bushes. The dragon roared, trying to light them ablaze, only to find his throat too swollen and gummed up by the barbed treat. He scanned the field and narrowly leaped over a second wave of lively battering goats, scrambling toward a distant water marsh where the humans and young goats thought they could safely rest until the tribute ordeal was over.

The dragon furrowed his brow, and his talons cracked the ground in rhythm. Victory was still his. Either swim to free himself of this stinging, sweet trap and charbroil them all alive, or get revenge and trample their discovered encampment.

(Part 1):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2658372

(Part 2):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2677041

(Part 3):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2677043

(Part 4):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2704926

(Part 5):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2712471

(Part 6):

https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2726342