Kathryn McConaughy's Feast of Adventures

  The storyteller made herself comfortable under the balsam tree, her soft black wings wrapped around her like a cloak. She smiled at the kits that played at her feet. “In those distant days,  in those far-off nights,  the sons of Sea began it…” Imdugud tacked across the wind with a tilt of his wings, the rich red of the sunset fading behind him. Ahead the sea-cliffs rose, the battering waves throwing spray high enough to wet his furred belly.   The fish in his net wriggled, and he clenched his paws tighter.   “Not far now!” his sister called over her shoulder. Her own load of fish was heavy, and she sank slowly toward the ocean. Imdugud flicked his whiskers in amusement. “Lazy—” he began. No warning. A vast shape surged up out of the waves, the red light gleaming on its algae-clad scales, and snatched Imdugud’s sister from the sky, net and all. It was hours later when Imdugud Stormbird returned through the mists to the Double M...

Earlier, I ran across a blog post about the problems of drawing a sword from a sheath on your back.  I came away with some useful information... and this story.  Enjoy! Gav could hear them whispering as they followed him into the alley. “What a block . Do you think he even knows how to use that sword?” “He must be too thick to realize it’s too long for him to draw over his shoulder,” sneered the leader of the bold threesome. “He doesn’t even know we’re back here!” giggled the third. Gav, who definitely did know that they were behind him, high-stepped over a pile of trash and nearly put his foot on a rat that was gnawing a discarded piece of bread. Gav paused politely to let it get out of the way; it ducked behind a pile of broken bricks and glared at him suspiciously.   He directed a little bow toward the small inhabitant—one could never be too careful—and strode onward. If he had been able to move more quickly, he might have been able to avoid ...