“Where should we go?” he said. “Mars?”
“Dad!”
“I know! We should go to Robot Planet!”
“Dad! We’re going to Tooth Island!”
“Yes, but where are we going? Into the sun?”
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All tagged weapons shop
“Where should we go?” he said. “Mars?”
“Dad!”
“I know! We should go to Robot Planet!”
“Dad! We’re going to Tooth Island!”
“Yes, but where are we going? Into the sun?”
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Dragon Father parked a few meters above the ground.
“We have to prepare for a big battle, Joy,” Dragon Father told her, jumping off Bonny’s Revenge.
Dragon Little who was never able to make jumps or flip-flops in the air like her father, climbed down the rope ladder.
They made their way in, past the wooden sign ‘Ye Olde Weapons Shoppe’, and out of my eyesight.
My sharp dragon ears still heard everything that happened.
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Dragon Little took the ship in close, but did not land.
The ship hovered above the shop. The clients were gone, the parking lot was empty. But almost everyone disappeared when Dragon Father woke up. She no doubt considered the fact that there were probably no clerks and sellers in the store.
She climbed the plank and looked down, feet keeping her balance with confidence.
She stood there for another few minutes, considering what she should do.
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“Weapons shop! Weapons shop! Weapons shop!” 4-year-old Dragon Little was jumping up and down and shouting this mantra all the way from Earth’s ocean to the asteroid belt and to the asteroid that held the weapons shop.
It was time for their yearly visit to the small meteor that only appeared once a year in the asteroid belt.
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Dragon Little was excited to go into the store again. She was 3 years old this time.
“Joy. Do NOT touch anything,” Dragon Father warned her ahead of time.
“A-ha,” she nodded happily.
“No, no, you’re not hearing me,” he said again and slower. “Do not touch ANY of the weapons. Not those you like. Not those you don’t like. You don’t touch the shelves. You don’t touch the lights. You don’t touch the people. You. Touch. Nothing.”
“A-ha,” she nodded just as happily, eyes sparkling.
“A-ha,” he seemed to lack confidence in her words. “What did I just say?”
“Ah… Don’t touch… something?”
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“Mary, we’re going off to the weapons shop!” Dragon Father waved at Mary. “Come on, Joy, wave at Mary.”
“Bye bye, Mary!”
Dragon Little was only 2 years old, and was teetering between being unable to do anything and being a budding warrior, sometimes the one, sometimes the other.
“Aw, look at you all excited to go and buy new weapons!” Dragon Little’s nanny clasped her hands together. “Enjoy!”
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