Mythical Misidentification

J.M. McCaiya

I have encountered many strange and curious creatures in my travels—some deep in ancient forests, others suspiciously close to the goat barn on my small farm in Molalla, Oregon.

There was the time I drank far too much elderberry ale with a wood sprite who kept refilling my mug while quietly lifting the coins from my purse. (She claimed it was “payment for the ambiance.”) I once stroked the obsidian-black muzzle of a Pegasus—yes, a real one and he was black, not white—as he grazed in a hidden mountain meadow, surrounded by his stunning, windswept herd. I’ve even dined on mushroom stew and candied roots prepared by a cheerful Brownie who lived behind the pantry in a creaky old inn.

But none of those encounters compare to tonight.

For tonight…I came face-to-face with the most magnificent of all beasts:
A dragon.

Sure, I’d seen a wyvern once, soaring above the peaks of the Germanic lands—absolutely terrifying from a distance, like a flying lizard with commitment issues. And I once glimpsed a pair of Asian water dragons playing tag in the surf beside a trade ship. But never—never—have I been this close.

She is the rarest of the rare… an Arctic Dragon. And she is GLORIOUS.

I discovered her lair deep within the frozen expanse of the Crystal Tundra… or perhaps somewhere slightly south of the water trough, between the hose spigot and an unusually majestic wheelbarrow. The ground sparkled with frost, the wind howled like ancient spirits, and my boots crunched over terrain that definitely could have been enchanted permafrost. For all I knew, I had crossed into another realm. It felt like the Crystal Tundra—cold, vast, mysterious.

The entrance to her lair was subtle—just a humble barn-shaped cave surrounded by straw bales. She lay sleeping inside, her glistening white scales shimmering like moonlight on snow. Steam rose gently from her nostrils as she snored the mighty snores of ancient beasts.

Naturally, I did what any seasoned traveler with zero self-preservation would do: I crept closer.

Every detail was spellbinding. Her massive form. Her powerful hooves—wait, hooves? No matter. I had to touch one of those glimmering scales. Just one. Just to say I had.

I reached out with a shaking finger…

And that’s when she opened one ice-blue eye and stared directly at me.

I froze.

This was it. My final breath. I braced for fire, frost, or possibly being turned into a chew toy.

Instead, she sighed like an exhausted aunt and said, “Oh for heaven’s sake. Are you pretending I’m a dragon again?”

I blinked.

“We’ve talked about this,” she groaned. “Yes, I’m the largest Saanen in the barn. No, I am not a dragon. And last week it was ‘Queen of the Mountain Dinosaurs,’ remember? Look—now the baby goats are giggling. Great.”

I slowly withdrew my hand.

With as much dignity as one can muster after mistaking a dairy goat for an apex predator, I nodded solemnly and backed away.

And so, with all limbs intact and just a hint of pride lost, I departed the lair of Starry the Magnificent… Queen of Goats, Scourge of Imaginations, and (in my heart) still very much a dragon.

***

Field Report: Subject #47 – Starry the Magnificent

Location: West Pasture, Barn #2, McCaiya Farm, Molalla, Oregon
Time of Observation: Approximately 9:42 PM, under a waxing moon
Weather: Cold with scattered enchantment

Species Observed:

Presumed: Draco glacies borealis (Arctic Dragon)
Actual: Capra aegagrus hircus, Breed: Saanen
Nickname: Starry the Magnificent, a.k.a. “High Empress of the Herd”

Behavioral Notes:
Subject was found in a resting state, curled dramatically in straw, with visible “steam” (read: goat breath) rising from nostrils. Subject’s snowy-white coat and commanding presence triggered an automatic classification as a mythical dragon of the rarest order. Eye contact was made. Intelligence confirmed. Mild sarcasm detected.

Upon contact attempt, the subject vocalized in Common Tongue and expressed exasperation at repeated misidentification. No flames, frost, or teleportation observed. Minor ego damage sustained by the observer.

Conclusions:
Starry is not, in fact, a dragon.
She is, however, majestic. And possibly magical.
Recommend continued observation. And snacks. Lots of snacks.

Filed by:
J.M. McCaiya, Explorer of the Extraordinary
Molalla Division, Department of Curious Creatures & Caprine Confusion

Jill McCloud

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