A long time ago, near a village called Buttery Glen, there lived a dragon. He was the color of midnight. He was huge and covered in sharp, pointy scales. The fire he breathed could light up the night sky.

He lived in a nest high above the village in an old, dead tree. 

Everyone in Buttery Glen was scared of the dragon...everyone but one precocious girl.

Sharon wanted to be a knight. She was strong and brave and unafraid.

Sure, the dragon breathed fire. But there were people with worse breath. And sure, the Dragon looked scary. But there were dogs in the village with scarier faces.

One day, the dragon had come down from his nest and was hiding in the cornfields.

Everyone ran to escape the dragon. Everyone except for Sharon.

Armed with her homemade sword, helmet and shield, Sharon ran through the deserted village toward the cornfield. 

When she spotted the dragon, Sharon snuck up behind him.

“Excuse me!” Sharon yelled. The dragon roared. He lowered his head to her level. Sharon felt the dragon’s hot breath on her face.

“I’m Sharon,” she said. “I’ve come to tell you to go away. You’re scaring everybody.”

The dragon’s breaths quickened. Huff! Huff! Huff! It looked like the dragon’s fire was about to blow! Sharon braced herself. But instead of fire coming out his mouth, tears began pouring down the dragon’s snout.

“I’m so lonely. Nobody likes me,” the dragon said.