Wohoo it's done! The first chapter of a series that's hopefully going to help fund me some food for the next month! I wrote a journal about it a while ago, but basically I need to reach deep into my savings in order to cover some last minute finances the food truck will need. While I'll still something left over, it leaves me in a pretty awkward situation where I really don't have much money left over for anything like food, which would be pretty bad in case the food truck ends up failing. Hopefully this growth drive can help solve that!

Synapsis: A construction company wants to build a new town in the beautiful nearby forest; however, they were unaware of a dragon who lives close by to the construction. Said dragon also hates anything relating to anthros... save for their food, however. As such, it is up to YOU to help fund the construction company to help purchase enough food (particularly pastries) to keep Grief sated, and (most importantly) plump while they get the job done!

Some important things to note:

*I know most drives use $1=5 pounds or so, but seeing as how I'm not an expert in dragon anatomy, I'd just say $1 =.5% closer to immobility. That means at $200, our dragon friend will have lost the use of his limbs, save for stuffing himself of course!

*If the drive hits $200 sooner than I expected, I'll write extra chapters describing the Grief's descent into immobility.

*The top donator of the first week will have their character added to the story as the dragon's personal feeder (and might even gain weight alongside him!) Every subsequent top donator will be a cameo in future chapters.

*Donations can be made to my paypal (mydoghateswater@yahoo.com) or ko-fi account (http://ko-fi.com/choiced) I will email the top donator every week asking for info on the character they would like to incorporate into the story, unless they prefer another means of communication, in which case they may comment here where they would like to speak.

*If I'm more than a few days late to uploading any chapter I will personally refund everyone with an apology and continue the story fundless

With that said, I hope you all enjoy!

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As far as dragons go, Grief was a particularly lazy one. Even as the mid-morning sun shone over the forest and birds filling the air with their chirping, the dragon continued to snooze within his den. Being the large predator that he is, Grief had no reason to be alert; his snoring alone was loud enough to scare off any unwelcome guests. As such, he would have easily slept through the entire morning and part of the afternoon, but amidst the cacophony of nature’s sounds occurring right outside, there was one that stood out from the rest, one sound that caused the dragon to open his glowing green eyes.

Vrrrrrrrrr

Grief’s head shot upward as that noise permeated his cave, filling him with a sense of dread. In all his years of living in the woods, the large drake had never heard anything quite like this before. Scrapings, hissing, clanking, none of which sounded remotely similar to the noises commonly heard in the peaceful area. On top of that, Grief noticed an alien scent had also wafted into the area, lifting his snout to get a better smell. It was strong and acrid, like something rotten had been set on fire, mixed with something else that felt sickeningly familiar. “It couldn’t be…”

With a twinge of anxiety coursing through his body, Grief hastily rolled onto all fours and raced outside his cave. The nearby chorus of birdsong stopped immediately, the animals stunned into submission as the sudden black and grey blur streaked across the forest floor fast enough to pluck the leaves off of the nearby trees due to the turbulence. With a beat of his wings, the dragon leapt into the air and took off, the ground rapidly diminishing from view until it was nothing more than a sea of green.

As the large drake ascended, he noticed a column of smoke near the edge of the forest, as well as a few unfamiliar shapes. The closer Grief glided, the more intense the strange scent stung his sensitive nose, causing him to wrinkle his nose every time he inhaled the substance. By the time he landed, he was nearly gagging on the fumes, although what he saw up close took his breath away.

What would have normally been a beautiful natural scene taken from a nature documentary was ruined by the presence of Grief’s worst enemies: anthros and their machines. As a young hatchling, Grief was helpless to watch his mother gagged and kidnapped by a group of dragon trappers. The memory of his mother squirming and crying out remained imbedded in the drake’s mind as he awkwardly scrambled away from the chaos, too small and helpless to help yet small enough to slip away unnoticed. He had been too young to even recall the name his mother chose for him, and as such elected to name himself the one emotion that continues to drive his resentment for anthros.

The image of his mother being kidnapped swiftly resurfaced within Grief’s mind as he strode into the clearing, his scowl deepening at the sight before him. Dozens of anthros, all wearing flashy yellow jackets were working together to chop down the trees belonging to his forest, his home. Some used loud and noisy devices to saw through the trees, the blades cutting through the bark like paper until it topples noisily onto the forest floor. Others operated large orange machines, some of which nearly made it up to Grief’s shoulder, that clawed and dug at the Earth, tearing out the ground in dirty grassy lumps. One by one, however, the workers stopped to stare at the massive drake, their equipment still running as they gaped at Grief. Apparently, nobody felt too keen to work with an angry 30 foot dragon staring at them.

Soon, the sounds of construction slowly died away as everyone stopped to look at Grief. Many were horrified, some were confused, and a very rare percentage actually looked excited to see a real life Grief. Naturally, the dragon didn’t care if they hated him or loved him; he simply wanted them gone. “Who is your leader?” He growled softly, his bright green eyes scanning the crowd.

“That’d be me!” One of the workers, a weasel with a bit of a pot belly, quickly stepped forward, being one of the few furs who looked positively excited. “How do you do, Mr. Dragon? I must say I certainly didn’t expect one of your kind to be living close by. Our contractors told us there wouldn’t be any indigenous dragons living nearby. You wouldn’t happen to be visiting from out of state, wouldn’t you?”

The weasel managed to keep his cheerful grin and attitude, even after Grief lowered his head to roar directly at him, sending the worker’s hat flying off his head and whipping his fur around until he looked like a brown cotton ball. “I have NO desire to make small talk with you vermin,” Grief growled, showing off his impressively sharp teeth. “You are trespassing and desecrating my territory with your foul metal contraptions! I have half a mind to throw every single one of you into those wretched pits you’ve been digging and bury you alive like the filth you are!”

The crowd gasped and shuddered at the detailed threat, some of the more muscular workers even hugging each other in fear. However, the chubby weasel continued to stand firm, even if his smile wavered a bit. “I can see why you’d be agitated, Mr. Dragon, but please understand that this is all for the greater good. You see, our hometown has been facing quite the overpopulation for quite some time, so we’ve been hired on commission to clear the landscape so we can build another settlement.”

“Your issues don’t concern me, find somewhere else to build,” Grief replied coldly, his left eye twitching dangerously.

Unfortunately, the weasel didn’t appear to have caught on to the dragon’s mounting frustration. “Oh, but you have such a lovely forest here, Mr. Dragon! The soil is soft and fertile, so farming wouldn’t be a problem at all! Your trees are quite sturdy too, I bet we could be fantastic homes with the wood!”

“I said find somewhere else to build.” Grief responded quietly, clawing at the ground angrily.

However, the weasel didn’t listen. “This is a very controlled process, Mr. Dragon. We’ll make sure to conserve as much of your forest’s beauty as possible, and we wouldn’t dare tread near your residence. In fact, if you’d like, we could even erect a wall near your home to keep out-“

That did it. That was the straw to break the dragon’s back, as the weasel soon found out. At once, he stopped talking as he saw Grief’s head turn red with anger, the tension in the air growing thick enough to cut with a butter knife. In fact, the very air itself seemed to fill with static as Grief slowly opened his maw, a bright blue light emanating from deep within his muzzle. With a thunderous roar, the light rocketed out of Grief’s maw, the shining blue orb rocketing past the terrified crowd before impacting the side of one of the tractors. A high-pitched shrieking sound filled the air as the vehicle was engulfed in electricity, pieces of metal bending and contorting due to the intense energy. As the flashing died down, several workers yelped in shock as they stared at the ruined tractor, which was nothing more than a charred pile of twisted metal.

There was a stunned silence from the crowd, the only noises being Grief’s heavy panting and an occasional spasm from the dead tractor. Very slowly, the weasel turned to face Grief again, his smile now very forced and his face drained of color. “I-I… well…t-that’s alright, w-we can replace that, no problem-“

“But can you replace your life?!” Grief snarled, sparks flying from his muzzle.

For briefest of moments, the dragon finally experienced the satisfaction of watching the confidence finally slip from the weasel’s chubby face. He looked no braver than the rest of his crew, his brushy tail between his legs as he finally realized the severity of the wrath he had brought upon himself. He looked ready to cry, ready to drop everything and run for his life, and that alone was almost enough to bring a smile to Grief’s face.

That is, until he did the last thing Grief expected him to do. “W-would you be w-w-willing to settle for c-c-compensation?” The weasel manage to squeeze those words through his trembling lips.

Grief frowned. “Compensation? Explain yourself.”

“O-of course!” The worker nodded, confidence slowly returning to his voice. “Boys, gather up your lunches and bring them here! Our jobs (and lives) are on the line here!”

To the dragon’s amazement, the anthros somehow managed to overcome their paralyzing fear and scamper off towards what Grief assumed was their camp, before returning carrying plastic sacks full of food. Of course, none of them dared to make eye contact with the towering drake, instead they opted to keep their heads low in an awkward bow as they dropped their lunches before him and backed away. Soon, a small mound of food had been presented to him, about the size of a kiddy pool.

“We would never attempt to build near a dragon’s home if we could help it!” The weasel explained, his charismatic voice and grin finally returning to him. “I mean, you drakes are quite the ferocious beasts, there’s nothing stopping you from deepfrying us all with that powerful… attack of yours.” His voice drawled off for a moment, his eyes flicking towards the ruined tractor besides him before continuing. “A-as such, we’re willing to offer whatever we can to compensate for your trouble.”

But Grief wasn’t paying him much heed. Instead, the dragon had lowered his snout towards the food, furious sniffing for something quite familiar. There were several sandwiches, as well as a few bags of chips and other salty snacks, but that wasn’t what grabbed Grief’s attention. No, it was those sweet, succulent pastries.

Grief had to suppress a moan of joy as his mouth came into contact with one such pastry: a delicious jelly-filled donut. Only on very rare occasions was he permitted the chance to taste succulent treats, but now there was an entire mound of them before him! Oh, to finally take the soft, crispy breading into his mouth, to squeeze the fruitfilling out from within, which was sweeter and tastier than any berry in the forest. He would have purred on the spot had he been alone.

However, he was very much not alone. There were dozens of eyes staring at him, anxiously awaiting his decision. With a large gulp, the dragon pulled his head away from the food pile and smacked his lips, scowling. “You call this a tribute? You selfish anthros could hardly scrounge up enough food to feed a horse, let alone a dragon!”

The workers shivered and recoiled from Grief’s words, much to his delight. And, with a flick of his tail, he had turned around to walk back home. “I will be back tomorrow,” he called out over his shoulder, trying his hardest to hide his delight. “And if that putrid pile of droppings you call food isn’t at least twice as high, mark my words, you will all be my next meal!”