The sound of shelves opening and closing woke Trucy up. She looked at her old-fashioned alarm clock, a clock her father got of a garage sale. 5.30. “That’s odd” she thought.
“Dad is usually in bed till eleven.” She yawned and opened the door to the living room. There, hunched over a piece of paper, her father stood, dressed in a tall coat, scribbling something down on it. He noticed the young girl, and smiled. “Morning, Sleepy-head. Up already? Trucy rubbed her eyes. “Dad…it’s five thirty. Aren’t you off your job today?” Phoenix dropped his pen, and with some effort picked Trucy up.“Yep, daddy’s off work today, but he has something he needs to do.” “Like what?” Truy said eagerly. “Daddy can’t tell. It’s a secret.” Trucy’s face went from happy to jealous. “Aw, dad, I wanna know!”
Phoenix shook his head. “Nope, I’m sorry. Now go back to sleep. Daddy’s princess needs her beuty-sleep!”

Phoenix forced the door to Trucy’s bedroom open with a kick, and tenderly tucked Trucy into her bed. He sat down on the bedside. “Let me tell you a bedtime story.” Trucy giggled. “Daddy, I’m too old for bedtime stories, plus, you’re terrible storyteller.” Phoenix jokingly put on a sad face. “Please? Pretty please?” Trucy laughed, and kissed her father on his bearded cheek. “Alright then. But make it a good one!” Phoeix cleared his throat. “Once upon a time, in the beautiful land of Turnabout, there lived millions of dragons. Some did circus tricks, some worked at restaurants, others liked swimming and others wore cravats and had a ridiculously large vocabulary, but this story is about two Dragons. One was named Feynie, and had sharp black spikes and skin blue as the sky. The other was named Ayama, and it was purple like…the filling of a blueberry cupcake and it loved dragonburgers!” Trucy giggled and asked “Dragonburgers? So she was a cannibal?” Phoenix smiled. “No, the dragonburgers were made out of evil dragons like the horrible KaVorma, who with one snap of his finger could make the earth tremble!” Trucy looked at her dad with a questioning look. “That still makes her a cannibal, dad.” Phoenix looked back with authority in his eyes, and said “Who’s telling the story?” Trucy gave up and laughed. “You are.”

“Right, where where we?”