A creative writing piece from a Year 6 pupil. Theme: Dragons
An extract from
A Story of Sea and Wind
Selene is my friend. She is as wild as the wind on a stormy night and as calm as the sea on a summer’s evening. I live in Cornwall by the sea. Wherever I go, Selene goes, even if I can’t see her. She has the ability to blend into her surroundings, like a chameleon. Sometimes, she lets me ride on her back. She is the only wild sea dragon left in existence that we know of. My mother is the leader of the Moon Tribe. Our sacred days are once a month, full moon. That was the day Selene and I met.
Seven years ago, the first full moon of the season, I woke up to the sound of whining. I had been asleep in a chair whilst the festival was held. My mother had left me there, sound asleep while the celebrations were in full swing. “Pip,” she told me, “You stay there. I will be at the beach, come find me if you need anything”. I nodded sleepily and closed my eyes. When I awoke, a small reptile body was nestled in my lap. I almost squealed in delight! Dragons were not uncommon around these parts, but this was different. It had soft brown eyes and a purple body. It gazed imploringly at me. I could see the stubs of pale horns, the colour of the moon, poking up. “Hello there,” I whispered, almost shaking with excitement, “I’m Pip. What’s your name?” This question was met with an agitated snort. She licked her lips. “Oh! You’re hungry, are you?” I remember picking her up, feeling the comforting weight of her body, the slow, reassuring beat of her heart, the swift flick of her tail against my hand. That was when I knew. Knew that I was meant for her, that she was meant for me. From then on, Selene went where I went. Nobody ever tried to separate us. Until now.
I ran through the forest like a hurricane. Mum had always said I could run. When I was younger she used to call me her ‘little whirlwind’. I’m fifteen now and five foot six. I’m a hurricane now - more than they could handle. They being the Catchers. That’s the thing about Catchers. They always catch you. Arrows pelted the ground around me. I ran
ran, my feet barely touching the floor. Suddenly, a hooded figure stepped out from behind a tree. I tried to swerve, but it was too late. Elongated, icy fingers clamped round my neck, blocking the air from my lungs. My eyes bulged. I writhed and kicked but it was no use. ‘That’s enough, Grimlow’. A sharp voice rang through the trees. The man, supposedly Grimlow, dropped me at his feet. I could see his face peeking out from under his hood, a triumphant, leering expression.
“Sorry boss. This one’s feisty though. ‘Lot different from the last one, doncha think?”
“Mmm. Yes, yes. Tie her up. We’re going back to base camp. It’s going to be a long journey”.
“On it, boss”. Grimlow’s boss stepped into a patch of dappled sunlight and I could finally see him. He had long, greasy black hair that clung limply to his scalp. Harsh eyes, the colour of rotten wood, bore holes into my soul. I gritted my teeth.
“Father,” I said, “it’s been a while”.
The journey was long and rocky - I won’t bore you with the details. Grimlow practically threw me out of the cart. I landed face first in the dirt. “Your father will see you in the morning. I will show you to your… chambers,” he grinned to himself and walked off. Tight ropes burned against my wrists. At least they hadn’t tied my legs, I could still run…no. No I couldn’t, that would be too dangerous. The camp was heavily patrolled. Chances of escaping were ten to one. I would have to wait this one out,
I stumbled on. When we finally reached the prison I was ready to scream with agitation. Grimlow unlocked a rusty door and the keys jangled in his pocket, as if to say, “We’re barely used, but we suppose you’re a…special case.” He shoved me into a cell, which is probably not even classed as a cell, just a bare room with a tin bucket in the corner. I sat down with a bump and glared furiously at him, but he had already begun to walk away.
