"Well, sit down and start recovering, Bliss," he said in a kindly manner. "You can't pick any pretzins today."
"But I wanted to pick pretzins, Pole. Darn that vacuum snake and his fast draft."
"I just hope the neighborhood dragon doesn't come around while you're in that weakened condition, Bliss," Pole worried as he totaled up the month's production on his reports. He decided, "I had better take time off from pretzin hunting today so I can be handy to help you with your getaway, if need arises."
"Oh, the dragon never bothers us," Bliss said uneasily.
"He has gotten close enough to burn up several of our pretzin patches, though. He may get to this cabin some day."
"He doesn't mean any harm," defended Bliss. "I'm sure he wouldn't want to eat us. They are known to be strictly vegetarians."
"No, he won't eat us. He'll cook us, unless we can run away fast enough—but he'll never eat us."
They heard a faraway sound.
"What is that crisp crackling that sounds like a dank forest burning?" wondered Bliss.
Pole scrambled to the door. "The dragon is coming! He's headed straight for this cabin!"