Dragons, Aliens, and...Clams?

Sound of surf breaking, susurration of waves washing in over beach and back out again. Approaching thuds of heavy, sand-muted footfalls and rasp of dragging tail.

[Galvistor] “Gideon, my alien friend, pal, companion in verbal exploitation--I am gratified by your invitation.” Deep sniff. “I love the beach! The smell of damp sodium chloride, the crunch of exoskeletons underfoot, the splash of aquatic vertebrate beyond the surf…”

[Gideon] Approach of lighter tread, moving quickly to catch up. “Did you say ‘squash’? Because I think that thing under your right claw is, or was, a--”

[Galvistor] “Splash was the word, my dear alien. As in splatter, spray, get wet. As for what I trod upon—it was simply an abandoned husk, a mollusk discard, a crustacean cast-off. Not to worry. Nothing viable dwelled therein.”

[Gideon] “In other words, an empty shell. Just for tonight, Galvistor, do you think you could try not to talk like a professor teaching erudition at a prep school? It would make it easier for my assistant to keep up if things were a bit less--”

[Galvistor] “Scholarly? But I am a scholar. I am an erudite! Of course my dialogue is superior. All of Dragonkind—well, at least most of us—engage in advanced wordage.”

[Gideon] Heavy sigh. “Never mind.”

[Galvistor] “Oh, all right! If you’re going to be disgruntled about it—call everything what you will. After all, a fang by any other name is still a ‘tooth’—but more simplistic terms lack passion. Ardor. Zeal. I will speak as I must. She’ll simply have to interpret; after all, isn’t that what Wikipedia is for? One cannot simply slough off the nature of their language, idiom, tongue-waggle anymore than they can disengage their skin.” Pause. “Present company excepted, of course.”

Long silence, as dragon, alien and human walk along beach together.

[Galvistor] “Ummmm…forgive my acute astuteness, old man—that is, old alien—but I perceive there is more to your less than animated demeanor this evening than mere annoyance at my advanced vocabulary.”

[Gideon] “I’m fine.” Trudging abruptly pauses. “Ah...thank you for bringing all of this down from my car. When I was trying to think of a place which might be comfortable for us both, I’d forgotten what a long walk this is.”

[Galvistor] “Don’t give it a second thought. I don’t mind pulling the wagon load of clams and beer kegs at all. Hardly notice it with my astonishing strength.” Muffled thud, sound of creaking wheel being pulled out of a depression in the sand. “It was most kind of you to order enough to satisfy my hearty appetite. Which,” Sniff. Sniff. “amplifies in the sodium—uh—salty air.”

[Gideon] Alien footfalls slow on a wistful pause. “You should see it during the day. Perfect blue sky, sand like crystal sugar. Waves rolling in, sliding out, rolling in again…”

Human footfalls hesitate.

[Galvistor] “I agree, it would be nice to be able to come out here in warm sunlight. I always enjoyed a sunning by The Only Sea, myself…but I appreciate, value, understand the necessity of a night sky. Darkness has its own charms. No worry of bombarding gulls or sunburn—”

[Gideon] “The warmth of scented lotion in your hands, rubbing it onto soft, smooth skin--”

Human footfalls stop. Quivering sigh.

[Galvistor] “Well, uh, I don’t use lotion, you know. An unappreciated commodity in the Dragon world. The sun doesn’t bother my scales, but I have been known to suffer a bit of a scorching to my jaw tendrils—oh, here!”

Thump of dropped wagon tongue, several thuds of heavy body pivoting. Mighty tail swish followed immediately by high-pitched feminine squeal.

[Gideon] “Alwynn’s Fire, watch what you’re doing! You almost sent her face-first into that pile of rotting seaweed.”

[Galvistor] “Oops! Sorry. The old tail gets away from me when I get excited. But—is this not the perfect spot for us to sear a bivalve mollusk? Partake of a seafood barbecue? Have a clam bake?”

[Gideon] “I guess if you don’t want something more sheltered, it’s—”

[Galvistor] “Wide enough to accommodate my bulk—and my tail if I tuck it around—and your own comfortable sprawl. The Wikipedia female can set her little chair right there. Shall I attend to the repast?”

[Gideon] “Please. I don’t have the slightest idea what to do with it. When I have an urge for clams, I usually ask the waiter bring a cup of chowder.”

[Galvistor] “Then allow me.”

Sounds of digging and spraying sand. Scrambling of human and alien rapidly pulling back from the brink. Male cursing and sounds of feminine distress as both dodge raining sand.

[Galvistor] “Oh—sorry. A tad too deep. Cavernous, if you will. Don’t know my own strength. But then—hellooooooooo.” Deep snorting chuckles. “A fine echo!”

[Gideon] Muttering under his breath. “This is going to be impossible to explain to the beach patrol.” Sound of rapid typing. “What, sweetheart? Oh.” Muffled snicker, then louder voice. “Galvistor? Do you think you can impersonate an extremely large pregnant sea turtle?”

[Galvistor] Snort of disdain. “Sometimes, my dear alien, your humor is skewed. Very well, I’ll fill it in a bit—” Sounds of shoving and padding of sand. “There, a perfectly adequate fire pit. Oven. Sandy crock-pot. I might as well obtain some fuel, too. I see an excellent piece of wood…” Voice and thumping footfalls fade out.

[Gideon] “Did he say he was gathering driftwood? Oh, for Alwynn’s--that’s against the rules. This is a public beach and he’s a--”

[Gideon’s assistant, aka Wikipedia Addict] “Really big dragon?”

[Gideon] Sound of hands rubbing face. “You’re right. Let the patrol deal with him, if they’re foolish enough to confront him. He's not my responsibility.”

[Wikipedia Addict] “Sir?”

[Gideon] “Even an Olam gets tired, sweetheart. Hand me that beach towel, would you?” Sound of body flopping down on sand. Deep groan. “I should have postponed this meeting with the Dragon to discuss our next blog. Or cancelled altogether. There are just too many differences between us to make even a setting like this work.”

Rapid approach of something very heavy being dragged.

[Galvistor] “This should do quite well. Nice and dry. Brittle. Devoid of moisture.” Sound of something rolling, a loud thud. “Ummm, it would have fit better into my original pit…”

[Gideon] “Where in all the Guilds of Etokia did you find a whole tree?”

[Galvistor] “You exaggerate. S’not a complete tree at all. Most of the branches are missing. Absent. Gone astray. But if you insist…” Stomping, sounds of crushing, ripping wood.. Swish of tossed wood. A splash. “There. Easily reduced in size. Now, for a little heat…”

Deep intake of breath, swoosh of spraying flames. Fiery explosion.

[Galvistor] “Whoa! Drier than anticipated!”

Loud cursing in multiple languages not found on Earth. Feminine yelp and sound of body being rolled in towel.

[Galvistor] Sniff. “I smell burnt hair. Uh—little Wikipedia Addict, I believe your eyebrows are singed.”

[Gideon] “A lot of her is singed. No need to blush, sweetheart, I’m just putting out embers on your blouse. Here, let me take off my shirt so you can put it on…you have to sit down? There you go. Galvistor, have you lost your mind?”

[Galvistor] Offended tail swish. “How rude! You needn’t be insulting! Impertinent. T’was an accident, after all. S’not as if I would purposefully harm a human, you know.”

[Gideon] “You do realize being fried by a dragon is not in her job description?”

[Galvistor] “Next time, dear girl, I shall bring something in recompense for my clumsiness. A nice jewel. Or a golden Mail Hawk quill—quite nice those quills. Perfect for dipping into ink wells. Give you a break from typing that hard keyboard.” Low grumble. “As for you, surly sir—my first perception of your mind-set was correct. Accurate. Right on. Obviously something other than me is affecting your reason. I’ve but one thing to say about that—it’s time to break open a keg.”

To be continued...