There were no such things as dragons, were there? Only in stories. Only in tales told around the hearth on winter’s nights, to set you shivering with cozy fear.
No Such Thing As Dragons
A feather blew across the ground to him. It was not a crow’s. Too long, too hard, too tapering. The quill that had rooted it to the dragon’s flesh was black, and hard as flint. In all his life, he’d neither heard nor dreamed of dragon feathers.
No Such Thing as Dragons