Welcome readers. Below, I have something different for you. This is not a rant on my ideas. This is not news. I hope this is not boring. Here, I have for you a little excerpt of something I like to call an "adult children's book." Enjoy!

Twixt a housing development and a lonely, old warehouse there are trees. To the average eye, these trees are scarce and devoid of any substantial life, but to me, there is Luna. We know, that between these two ordinary, industrialized places lie acres of an extraordinary and lush land. Acres which Luna hides in, and I run to. Acres which only us and our friends know exists. Acres which are secret to the rest of the wide and angry world. Acres which you, my friend, are now welcome to.

Luna, is 789 yards long (which is a little over half a mile), 354 yards wide, and has a wingspan of about five football fields stretched out end to end (which is around 600 yards). The scales that coat her sleek, slim bodice are a charcoal color, dark and matte. And while on most creatures, their color turns lighter to almost white around their tummies, Luna’s scales only get darker and darker until they arrive at her underbelly at a black obsidian color.

Soft fins, each around a yard at its base, run from the tip of her tail to the crest of her head. These fins color themselves vibrantly dependent upon her mood. Displeasure turns them green; love turns them red; fear turns them blue; happiness turns them purple; anger turns them yellow; excitement turns them orange. The list goes on, for there are many emotions in this world, as well as many colors to match them, but these colors, I know best. Her pines are often red when I see her because this magnificent beast is the most loving creature I know. She loves the moon; she loves her friends; she loves the lake; she loves herself. Most of all, she loves the sky.

Her claws hold this same property, so that even if you are only at her feet, you can still know what it is that Luna is feeling. Though, when she is shy (which she most often is), she retracts her pines and claws so that her emotions are not so plainly left out in the open. This way, she hides in another way from the world which surrounds us. Luna’s snout is long and narrow. Inside of it, there are three rows of perfectly coned and glistening white teeth, as well as a slick, black tongue. As you would expect to find at the end of any creature’s snout, there are two perfectly rounded nostrils which flare and quiver with each breath she takes. Atop her head, are her two pointed and cupped ears that are forever listening for dangers unknown.

Luna’s diet consists of mainly white-rabbits she gently hunts and the peculiar white berries which grow on the pine trees in her sacred forest. Although occasionally, I will bring her a treat, her favorite commodity since I have met her, books. Luna will take almost any novel which was written from the heart, savor it in her soft maw, tickle it with her sleek tongue, and swallow it whole, just like a pain-reliever.

The stars named Luna at her birth. Sparkling, from their perches high in the sky, they looked down on the little dragon pup and saw deep into her eyes, which they recognized to be two lost moons of some long-forgotten planet made of gray and green and star-dust. Luna is hands-down the most beautiful dragon I have ever laid my mortal eyes on. (This is not only because I have never seen any other dragons either.)