“Yeah.” *Jules turns his head up at the cloud-free blue sky. It's a beautiful summer day.* “You should really leave town. It's going to hail soon. That's weather, eh? By the way, I love the wings.” *He paused in thinking.* “When did the last dragon die, anyway? I forget...” “Oh yes, it was in Greenland, wasn't it? 8... 865, right? Or was it 1865... Ugh. Stupid half-mortal mind.”