![]() ![]() Smoke still trailing from her nostrils, she crossed her arms and pouted, glaring down at the knitting books and magazines laid out on the floor in front of her. “ARGH!” she finally snapped, letting a plume of flames erupt from deep in her throat toward the ceiling. But then there was that new DK superwash she just bought… She eyed these bins and wondered if she should make a pair of Frankensocks with the leftover sock yarn, or a crazy sweater with the leftover worsted weight wool. By far her biggest bins were for yarn scraps, leftovers from finished projects that she swore she would use up one day, but never did. ![]() Her massive yarn hoard was organized by weight, fiber type, color family, and yardage, each bin painstakingly labeled with her own elegant, flowing calligraphy. Unlike her dragon brethren, who tended to keep their gold and treasure in one massive pile in their lairs, Galli preferred organization. Mohair could burn in hell, as far as she cared.īack to her current dilemma, she was getting more and more frustrated. All kinds of yarn! Itchy Icelandic wool, softer merino, cloud-like alpaca, heavenly cashmere - oh! What she wouldn’t give to have more cashmere! The green dragon once even had an unhealthily large supply of mohair, until she attempted to knit a lace shawl out of lace-weight mohair yarn after starting, ripping out, and restarting that project five or six times, she finally got so frustrated she set the whole thing on fire with her own breath. Her head was reminiscent of a skinny crocodile with horns sprouting out from her forehead, yet she was unusual in one very important respect. What to do, what to do…? She was, for the most part, typical of European dragons: four-legged, green-scaled, with bat-shaped wings on her back, possessed fiery breath (despite her obsessive dental hygiene). She tapped a talon against her cheek, deep in thought. The dragon crossed one arm over her chest, claws resting in the crook of her other arm, which cupped her chin. ![]()
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