Flix let out a yelp as the dragon’s tongue licked over her. She tensed up, turning her muzzle away as the hot, wet tongue slavered over her, then wriggled, but to no avail. Alan got a glimpse of the dragon’s maw as it licked them – deep and purpled blue, hot breath wafting over them – heat produced, he thought, by the digestion of their fellow castaways – a luckless group condemned to be eaten by misfortune. “Stop it!, Please. No..” The licking they were getting was turning him on, what with Flix wriggling herself against him. “At least we’re no being chewed up yet” he consoled himself, though he had seen the dragon’s teeth too. It was only a matter of time…