not of the thick lowland jungle, but of misty rainy mountain forests
her roar echoes through the branching pines and stalwart evergreens
one catches a glimpse of shining wine-crimson scale
between parting clouds and green-wreathed peaks
her den is an old mansion shaded
at a winding roads end
once the dwelling of a muttonchopped petty lord
from a land across the furthest sea
now in limbo
entrapped in a courthouse file,
in a cloud wreathed city of hills
and rain-stained concrete
not too far away
it is both noisy and quiet here
the sound of rain and the scream of crickets create an impossibly quiet cacophony
amidst surrounding bamboo, a great shadow falls
and vanishes, shrinks,
enacting an impossible yet everyday change
to become a smiling girl,
her horns shining
the girl folds her wings and relaxes
bamboo leaves crunch beneath her paws
as our young dragon walks into her lair,
old and dusty yet turned to a place
of comfort
for one who is no longer human
And yet happier for it
// this originally was intended to be a lil shitpost but I got carried away by my love of the Cordillera region of the Philippines, where my grandmother grew up
