-Slick (Ice Dragon) Level 3-

I wasn't as scared as Frostie of the Nosferatu dragon flying frantically above our heads. We saw that creature right after we can out of our eggs, Frostie and I. She screamed so loud that the whole island shook! I was frightened too. The Nosferatu snorted and and, I think it was, a ghost dragon that had popped out from behind the mountain that sprayed a blast of "ghostbreath" at her! Dad got mad and cursed, " You Blizzarding Ice Balls! You stay away from my hatchlings! YA HEAR ME! I don't know why the Wizards put me and my hatchlings with you, but stay away, Or you are going to eat my ice for breakfast! And don't even think about BREATHING YOUR DESPICABLE HALLOWS EVE BREATH TOWARDS MY BABIES!!"

When Dad had said that, I thought, 'Woah, you go Daddy!' But I could tell that Frostie was about to lose her ice she was so scared! We both hid under Dad at that time. The Halloween dragons both stayed away from us, especially the bat-like Nosferatu, although he was really nice, compared to that Ghosty one! Dracula, (the Nosferatu) stayed up in the clouds, while Tundra (the Ghost) glares at us with chilly yellow eyes, sometimes stalking and haunting us, so it seems.

Frostie and I flew close to the ground when Tundra was near the cliffs with Dracula, and we retreat to the sky as the ghostly figure floats ominously toward the smooth ice. And now, we were doing just that, staying in the cliffs with Frostie and Dracula, while Dad was on the ice far a way from Tundra.

"I have tried to get him to stop scaring you little ones!" Dracula said, "But Tundra is too stubborn!" I stared disbelievingly at the fanatically flying dragon, "No really!" He said, " I have been trying!"

"Well you must not be a good persuader." I replied. A forked black tongue slithered teasingly through his oddly positioned fangs. It was kinda strange to me; a little hatchling speaking to an ancient Halloween dragon, six or seven times older than myself, but you don't really have any opinions if you are forced to be stuck with a Nosferatu and a Ghosty dragon.

All three of us stared from our cliff-side post at Tundra and Dad, awaiting a fight calling to them from the near-future. Tundra and Dad always seem to fight, no matter how nice they were that day (Not that Tundra is ever really... nice...)

Dad was sniffing at the ice, digging some of it out with his teeth. I didn't know why he was doing so, it was such a random thing to do. A chilly voice reflected off the roughening ice, "Shard don't do that. Keep the ice smooth! It feels weird when it's all bumpy and chewed down like that!"

"What," Shard replied, " It's not like your ghostly claws would even touch it, you don't have any! Or wait, maybe they're invisible, Mr. OCD!" A snort of ghost-breath wasn't the only complaint Tundra gave Shard.

" First of all I would like to inform you that it should really be CDO. Second, it jus looks terrible."

"Oh yeah? Well look at this!" Shards two claws reeked through the glass-smooth ice, creating claw-deal crevasses into Tundra's reflection. The Ghost Dragons lips drew back into a menacing snarl.

I never knew why they fought over little things like DCO, or, ODC, or, whatever it was called, and little cracks in the slippery, glistening ice. All I knew was at that moment, when the two older dragons were about to tackle each other, a drowsiness engulfed my eyes. Soon, they saw nothing but the purest black, maybe as black as obsidian.