Once, long ago, there were dragons roaming the Earth.

Imagine DRAGONS, flying high in the air, touching the very tips of the highest mountains. Imagine lively, small, chirpy dragons, hanging onto tree branches, singing out loud.

Now imagine a red dragon, about as big as a Golden Terrier dog, with yellow floppy ears, spines, and under-wings, with a sharp pointed tail and a rather nervous expression.

That dragon is me, and my name is Sharpwing.

I am a Flamestinger, a dangerous species that can fly extra fast and tail tips that contain powerful paralyzing poison.

Flamestingers are powerful dragons. But I'm wasn't, despite being one.

My wings were bendy, my poison was so weak I can barely stop a rabbit in its tracks, and due to my bendy wings I can hardly fly straight, let alone fast.

Both me and my best friend Phasma were like that. Phasma has problems with her eyes, so she couldn't see clearly and sometimes keep bumping into things.

Clearly we were the weirdos in our species, and every Flamestinger in our hideout thinks exactly so.

How am I supposed to fix this? We both followed the Young Dragon Training Academy in our hideout, and we had to have a good reputation to progress as far as everyone else.

But there's more.

More unpredicted stuff early in my life.

Sometimes extremely unpredictable.

Sometimes there are things in life that are just unpredictable, and things doesn't always turn out our way in the end.