Thousand: Seven Hundred Twenty-Four

have to have a tick talk?” “No, really. I keep them in my ears. Dried ones.” The dragon digs a curving claw into a fold in its green ear. Flakes trickle out on its palm. The girl squints at the wrinkled little black dots when the dragon holds the palm out. “I could be wrong. I’ve been wrong before in my life. But I think I’m not going to be eating a tick. Somehow, if perhaps just this once, I will succeed in resisting the peer pressure.” The dragon closes its eyes and considers the girl’s response. It could be