The Foxdragon and the messenger
By Strega	

	Ty-Tullain the messenger was riding down a forest trail when it happened.
	He'd spent the night with a group of elves, breaking camp as the sun rose.  Thankfully, elvish wine didn't produce a hangover half as bad as Dwarven stout.  That might be because what dwarves called “beer” had an alcohol content higher than most whiskey, but for whatever reason he started out the day with barely a headache.  The elves had mentioned in passing that the trail to the South had been raided by bandits at recently as two months back, but there had been no attacks since.  It was considered quite safe.
	The elves proved to be wrong. He was squinting into the morning light when something came down out of the trees and swept him from his mount.  He fell badly, driving the air from his lungs so forcefully that he passed out.
	The last thing he saw was a serpentine, multi-legged thing wrapping itself around his screaming steed.
	He woke with something heavy lying across his thighs.  He fumbled for it before his eyes opened, expected a tree limb, but his fingers encountered fur.  Startled, he sat up, and found himself looking into the eyes of a dragon.
	At least, 'dragon' was as close a label as he could find for it.  A long, furry, serpentine thing with three pairs of spindly legs and a fox-like face.  A green fin ran down its back, and curved black claws tipped its paws.  It smiled, and rubbery black lips drew back from many sharp teeth.
	Altogether too many.  It must have easily a hundred of them, interlocking at random.  Some poked out from under its chops even with its mouth closed.  The whole beast must have been thirty feet long from wet black nosepad to fox-brush tail.  It was the tail that lay across him.
	It was while he was looking it over that he noticed the enormous bulge in its midsection.  The glimpse of it he had before passing out had been of a long, thin creature, lacking any such swelling.  It was easy to guess hat had happened.
	“My horse,” Ty said.
	“Yes,” said the...fox-dragon?  Dragonfox?  “I apologize.  I was very hungry, and I didn't see you at first.  By the time I realized the horse had a rider I already had it mostly swallowed, and, well,” It smiled again, “It's hard to stop once I've got something that far in.”
	“But my horse had a saddle, saddlebags.” At least it seemed a reasonable creature.  Its tail was not even holding him down, but rather just lay across his legs.  He could push it out of the way and run.
	The fox-dragon shrugged, a peculiar gesture that started at its foremost set of shoulders and flowed down its body.  “Horses without riders are common.  There were some bandits that kept ambushing people along this trail, and oftentimes I would pick off a horse as it fled from the attack.  I'm afraid I got into the habit of eating them.  If I had seen you, of course I would have let you go by.”
	“Of course.”  Ty smiled.  The creature seemed friendly enough.  The smile fled as the bulge in the dragon's midsection shifted.  The fur was stretched so it displayed contours of swallowed horse, and the horse moved.  It was still alive.
	“Pardon me,” the fox-dragon said, and belched.  It swiveled its head around to eye the twitching lump.  “I was in such a hurry I didn't even squeeze it quite to death, it seems.  But I saved your saddlebags.”
	Ty winced.  Well, he hadn't had the horse that long.  He wiggled his legs out from under the creature's tail and stood up.  “I've never heard of a creature like you.”
	“As far I know I am the only one.  My mother was adventurous in her choice of lovers.”  The fox-dragon gathered its legs beneath itself, but did not rise to its feet.  Perhaps it could not do so with its midsection so distended.   It lifted its head so it still looked him in the eye, though.
	Ty walked over to the saddlebags. They did not seem to have been opened, which was good as they were not meant to be save by the recipients.
	“This will make quite a story to tell at the bar.  Though it's quite a walk from here.”
	“Yes, about that,” said the fox-dragon, “Perhaps I can help.”
	Ty turned, smiling.  He expected an offer of a ride.  What he did not expect was a gaping maw coming down over his head.  The saddlebags fell from nerveless fingers as the fox-dragon's jaws clamped down.   It had engulfed him to the knees in one quick lunge.
	He kicked, once, as it lifted its head.  Only his hips and below fit in its mouth; the rest of him was already in the thing's gullet.  Dozens of teeth pierced his calves, and Ty yelped in pain.  The sound was muffled by the slick, muscular flesh surrounding him.
	It tossed its head, bolting him deeper.  Ty's boots scraped over pointed teeth, then there was nothing around him but flesh.  The fox-dragon swallowed.
	Ty slid helplessly down a wet chute.  Ahead of him, but getting closer, he heard a faint whinny.
	“That was amusing,” said the fox-dragon.  He turned his head to eye the bulge in his middle. The addition of the man did not greatly add to its bulk.
	He picked up the saddlebags and began climbing back into the treetops. Lacking wings, he could not fly like most dragons, but he had the innate ability to reduce his own weight.  Otherwise the smaller trees would never have supported him.  Even so, the addition of fifteen hundred pounds of horse and rider to his belly made the climb a laborious one.
	His meals were twitching their last as he curled up in his favorite tree. The rider had lasted a surprisingly long time, and the dragon might have worried had he not checked the man for weapons before he woke up.  The dagger he'd taken from the rider's boot had a nice gem in the pommel.
	In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have eaten the bandits.  While it had been fun to send them screaming down his gullet, one by one, pickings were thinner without them chasing people into his claws.
	“Ah well.  A lesson for another day.”  He burped again, and settled down to digest his meal.