Page 55 - Fearless Females
P. 55
Dragon: Drop that Icon!
The chief put on his heavy boots and fur coat, locked up his office
and followed the still-agitated peasant out into the chill afternoon air.
As they trudged down the muddy street Fyodor noticed a strange
odor. He sniffed and wrinkled his nose.
“Paugh!” he exclaimed. “This town smells even worse than usual.
Has the inspector of open sewers been taking bribes again?”
“It is the dragon’s breath,” muttered his guide, and crossed himself
three times.
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