Title:           Frog Dragon
Author:          dzamie
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/yVpZA9bp
First Edit:      Thursday 4th of August 2016 10:25:31 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Thursday 4th of August 2016 10:25:31 PM CDT

>shooting the breeze with the rest of your little group
>just you, Fritz, and Susan, the other two "adventurers" who took this job
>you're camping out at the base of the mountain that's got the dragon in it
>you toast to your impending success, drinking deeply from your mugs of... water
>fighting a dragon with a hangover is a death sentence, after all
>you hear a clattering noise
>when you lower your drink, you realize Fritz dropped his own
>Fritz is also no longer sitting at the campfire
>Fritz, in fact, has vanished
>you and Susan stand, warily watching the shadows
>she lets out a surprised gasp, and you turn in time to see something long and pink stretching from her torso out into the darkness
>the normally fearless adventurer hardly has time to scream as she's pulled blindingly quickly away from the firelight
>her screams are muffled, and soon you can't hear them
>...assuming she's still alive to make them
>and now, you're all alone
Run, hide, or fight?
>>Fight
>you will avenge your fallen comrades!
>too risky to stand around putting on full armor
>but in a flash, you grab your sword
>you keep moving, picking up and lighting a few torches, then tossing them at the darkness where Susan was pulled to
>and one, you keep for yourself
>some spots of light reveal nothing
>suddenly, a slight motion, and you dive away just in time
>a blur of pink zips past your head
>it takes the beast a few seconds to realize it missed, time enough to search for and find its hiding spot
>yelling, you charge forward
>the dragon backs up, but slowly
>it angles its reptilian head at you, hissing
>another strike, no room to dodge
>reflexively, you bring up your offhand as though to block or parry
>the tongue slaps wetly against your hand, but with a strong pull, you somehow free yourself
>a brief stumble, but you quickly regain your footing as it reels in its "catch:" your torch
>though wet, its glow persists, shining dimly through the edges of the dragon's jaws
>...what is that torch made of?
>the light vanishes as the beast swallows, but you've taken aim
>the dull sound of blade entering flesh sounds out in the darkness
>you force the sword as deep as you can before yanking it out
>it shrieks, and a large, scaly paw knocks you off-balance
>but its screams are music to your ears
>you've won
>after the better part of a minute, the thrashing stops, and all is quiet
>the dragon breathes no more
>as your eyes adjust, some unnoticeable detail draws you to its soft underbelly
>is it movement?
>could Susan, or even Fritz, still be alive?
>or maybe it's better to take its horns as proof of victory and run back to town
>sleeping alone in the forest... not good for one's health
>plus, you get a bigger portion of the reward
Decisions, decisions. Loyalty to your group, or are they as good as dead anyway?
>>greed
>right, no telling what could be lurking in the darkness
>besides, they're probably dead anyway
>with some effort, you manage to sever the dragon's horns from its body and tuck them under your arm
>you glance around to get your bearings, then head off towards where town probably is
>along the way, you constantly look all around you
>a fox, likely desperate for food, attacks you, but your sword makes quick work of it
>you keep moving for what feels like hours
>eventually, though, you see the edge of the woods, and the dim glow of civilization beyond
>you let out a sigh of relief, relax, and stride towards it, almost entranced by the promise of safety
>...well, relative safety
>still have to watch out for those dark alleys
>the sound of a large branch snapping jerks you into awareness
>you spin, dropping the horns as you bring your hand up defensively
>something soft and warm slaps wetly against your arm
>you try to jerk away, but the tongue holds fast
>you think to slice at it with your sword, but you're suddenly yanked forward at blinding speeds
>mid-flight, your sword lodges in a tree, and you're wrenched away from its offer of safety
>suddenly, you land with a splat against something soft and squishy
>the air around you is hot and damp
>there's a "clack" behind you, and what little light you had vanishes as the dragon shuts its jaws
>you pull at your arm again, and to your surprise, it comes free
>...not that you can do anything
>weaponless
>in "cloth armor" - honestly just your bedclothes
>literally inside a dragon
>the dragon's head moves suddenly, and you reflexively grab at the devious tongue
>unfortunately, the previously sticky flesh is now slick with the beast's drool, and you slide easily off
>you stay in its mouth, though
>the dragon doesn't swallow
>it just keeps you prisoner as it goes.. wherever
>your attempt to keep track of the time swiftly fails
>prisoner and passenger, all you can do is lay back and hope for the best
Live or die?
>>_Die
>eventually, the dragon stops, and you slide along the forked tongue towards the front of its mouth
>probably back at its cave, wanted to eat you in private or something
>a dim, white light appears past your feet - in its throat, you realize
>used to the pitch-black of the dragon's jaws, you turn away, laying belly-down on the tongue, in hopes to lessen the sudden glare
>suddenly, the large fangs of your prison part, blowing the cool night air over your body
>an exit
>you try to force yourself up, but somehow, your top has adhered itself to the dragon's tongue
>you peer through the opening, sweet freedom just a few impossible feet away
>the dim outline of a prone dragon, smaller than the one so easily holding you captive
>its underside moves slightly
>its horns are missing
>the white light flows out over you and onto the limp form
>you feel overcome with a rush of energy, as though you'd just gotten the best sleep of a lifetime
>with renewed vigor, you squirm free from the stuck, soaked shirt and vault out of the beast's open jaws
>and you hit the ground running - direction doesn't matter now, so long as it's away
>a familiar, sticky feeling hits the back of your legs
>desperate, you grab a convenient low-hanging branch
>your legs are yanked backwards, but your grip holds true
>a quick glance over your shoulder confirms your fears:
>the littler dragon has firmly snared you, and is struggling, trying to pull you into its hungry maw
>you doubt it'd be as merciful as its parent
>with luck, you'll be able to endure longer than it will
>the dragon starts making frantic, worried noises
>hopefully, it's close to giving up
>the sound of cracking sticks and branches grows nearer
>you turn your head and come face-to-snout with the adult
>if it's asking you to let go, it's got another thing coming
>...metaphorically speaking
>it would be a very bad idea to remove a hand just to swing at the dragon
>the scaly head moves under you, then begins to lift, pushing you up
>briefly, you wonder why it didn't tell the little guy to just walk forward
>as your hands leave the branch, you assume it's because this is a worse fate
>immediately, you land waist-deep in the warm mouth
>you press your hands against either jaw, and manage to prop yourself against it
>maybe, just maybe it'll give up and let you go for easier food
>the dragon just opens wider, and your arms soon buckle
>firm muscles surround your legs as the dragon swallows, and you find yourself with barely just your arms outside of the enveloping heat and humidity of the dragon's insides
>desperately, you grab at its teeth, heedless of possible sharpness
>dull, but unfortunately your hands slide easily off the saliva-covered fang
>another muscular pull leaves you with only your head and arms in its mouth
>one more, and your vision is filled with its throat-flesh
>its powerful, draconic muscles roll over and over your body, until your feet and legs are forced into a slightly more open area
>almost immediately, you're pressed against a tangle of limbs
>the gullet is relentless, and soon, the rest of your thoroughly-defeated form is squeezed into the tight, too-full stomach
>with some effort, you force your arms down by your sides; it's marginally more comfortable
>in pure darkness - the torch must've finally gone out - you feel around, in hopes of finding a weapon
>the other occupants are just Fritz and Susan
>they're pretty easy to tell apart
>you slide your hands around the Susan's body first, closer and more likely to keep something hidden on her
>no luck
>nothing on Fritz
>but you feel a bit better about yourself
>it's getting harder to stay awake
>there's probably not any air in here
>with your last ounce of energy, you push out, as though you could burst free from the dragon
>and somehow survive the parent
>and the other night hunters
>you fail and collapse, embracing your fellow adventurers
>in the thinning air, you pass out...