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The other big difference is my dragons. Although huge, they don't blow fire, they are not covered with scales (that would make them too heavy to fly), and they don't live in damp caves. Instead, they are intelligent, cultured and believe in friendship above all else. I might write an article about my dragons on here one day as in my stories, they are the ideal society.
One dragon, a large Draig yr Anialr (desert dragon) called Be-Elin, writes a poem for her rider, a young, gay woman called Silvi Farthing. Although the poem is about death, it is not a sad poem, I hope, but a gentle wish to be remembered.
Tomorrow, when I am gone,Will you remember me?Will you tell people How I danced with the clouds,Caressing their cool faces with my wings?
In the morning when the sun rises,Will you recall my song?The words I sang whenWe pledged true friendship to each other,And you wrapped yourself around my neck?
When the heat of day warms the mountains,Will you think of my passing?Will you believe I am still flyingHigh over windswept valleys,My wings wide, capturing the light?
When the cool evening chills the dayWill you cry for me?Will you stand on the highest peakAnd call out my name?For I will be listening, my dear friend.
You can find out more about my world here: http://aworldcalleddirt.com