Speaker 1: Hell yeah, Hello. My name's Josephine and this is the
Animal Tales podcast, where you suggest the animals featured in
our stories. There are new tales to enjoy every Monday
and Wednesday, with a third premium only story every Friday.
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Francesca lives in Sydney, Australia, and she would like a
story featuring an otter and a dragon. You can learn
more about these creatures in the animal facts after the story. Okay,
are you ready? That's good, then I'll begin The Otter
and the Dragon. The water lapped gently over Francheska's paws
as she waded through the river's shallows. Something shiny had
caught the otter's eye, so she bent down to pick
it up. Holding it up to the light, she saw
a pretty blue stone, perfectly round and flecked with white speckles.
Otters love pretty stones. Francesca had quite a collection hidden
away in her burrow. She couldn't wait to add this
one to her growing pile. Satisfied, she slipped the pebble
into her bag alongside a handful of other stones that
she'd found that day. Another ten minutes, Francesca said to
herself as she continued her search, This was a good spot,
But as she stared downwards into the water, everything darkened.
Thinking a cloud had passed in front of the sun,
the little otter looked up just in time to see
a dark shape gliding over Hercheska couldn't believe what she
was seeing. She'd heard stories, but never seen one for
real before. A dragon? But what was it doing and
where was it going? Without giving it a second thought,
Francesca took off after the creature, The stones forgotten. She
left the river behind her, stumbling through the trees as
she struggled to stay in a straight line. The trees
ended at a rocky hillside, and there, lounging on the
rocks was an enormous green dragon. Francesca bit back a
squeal of excitement. She'd begun to think she'd imagined it,
but there it was. She'd always loved the idea of dragons,
with their giant wings, powerful claws, and breath of fire.
She'd read so many stories about them, even pretending to
be one when she was a young otter pup, spending
many an afternoon, pretending to fly along the river side,
and now here was a real one, only a short
distance away. He was magnificent, a body as big as
an elephant, with a long tail and emerald scales that
shimmered in the sunlight. Most animals would have run at
the sight of such a huge predator, but any fear
Francesca had was nothing compared to her excitement. Hello, Francesca
called out, stepping out from the trees. Good morning. The
dragon's head whipped around, but relaxed immediately at the sight
of the little otter. It was barely bigger than one
of his sharp teeth. What do you want, mammal asked
the dragon. I just wanted to say hi. Francesca replied,
I've always wanted to meet a dragon. This is so cool.
The dragon wasn't used to being approached. Are you not
scared of me, he asked, Most animals are. Oh no, well,
maybe a little, the otter admitted, But I've always thought
how wonderful it would be to be friends with a dragon.
The dragon let out a low, rumbling laugh. Dragons don't
make friends with non dragons, he said, You're far too small,
and you could never keep up with me. Besides, we
have nothing in common. Oh I'm sure we would if
we got to know each other, Francesca said eagerly. I
know lots about dragons. You see. If I were a dragon,
i'd be a really good one. You, the dragon laughed.
Dragons are powerful, strong, and brave. You're just a li otter.
I can be powerful, strong and brave, insisted Francesca. If
I could show you, could we be friends? Maybe? The
dragon replied, looking amused. But I don't see how you're
going to manage it. Francesca smiled. Don't go anywhere, she said,
I'll be right back. She turned tail, running back into
the trees, leaving the amused dragon to return to his nap.
Francesca ran all the way home, only stopping to gather
up some items she needed along the way. She dumped
her fines upon the table, then held out her little
fuzzy arms to give them a couple of flaps. If
I could fly, then i'd be much more like a dragon,
she smiled. But she didn't have flaps of skin like
a dragon or a bat, and she didn't have feathers
like a bird. Luckily, Francesca was a very creative otter,
so she got to work, cutting, sewing, and gluing. Look,
she cried out to the dragon as she reappeared on
the rocky hill side. I have wings now too, I'm
just like a dragon. The otter had made herself a
pair of wings out of leaves, vines, and random feathers.
They were strapped to her arms and were large enough
to drag along the ground behind her. The dragon snorted,
although he was secretly impressed. Interesting, he said, but do
they work? Of course, Francesca replied a little nervously. I'll
show you. With great effort. She clambered up on to
one of the larger rocks, looking over their edge. Francesca
gulped go on, then prompted the dragon fly. Francesca took
a deep breath and began flapping her home made wings.
Her arms began to ache almost at once. She was
going to have to get this over with and quickly,
so she jumped for a second or two. The otter
hung in the air, flapping furiously. Then she dropped like
a stone. She'd have surely hurt herself if not for
a clawed hand catching her before she hit the ground.
Nice try, said the dragon, placing Francesca carefully on the grass.
Any friend of mine has to be able to fly
with me. If you can't do that, you can't be
my friend. Francesca sighed as her leafy wings fell from
her arms. All right, she said, let me try something else.
Don't go anywhere. The dragon shrugged as the otter disappeared
once again, leaving her broken wings behind her. Francesca was
saddened that the wings hadn't worked. She'd been so proud
of them. But there had to be something else she
could do to be more dragon like. The answer, it
turned out, was just a short distance away. Overhearing voices,
the otter peeked around a tree to find a group
of humans camping in the woods. Two were tending to
their horses, another was looking for something in a bag,
But it was the fourth that caught Francesca's attention. This
human was striking two stones together, two pieces of flint.
She thought. Each strike created sparks, which showered on to
a small pile of twigs and dry moss. As the
otter watched, the kindling flared brightly as the human began
to place small sticks on top. In no time, he'd
built a small, blazing fire. Francesca stared at the flames
dancing before her eyes. This, she realized, could work. What
are you doing, the dragon asked patiently. A short while later,
Francesca was building a small pile of twigs and dry grass,
the one thing that only dragons and I suppose humans
can do. Francesca declared, I give you fire. She produced
two pieces of flint from her bag, striking them together.
A single spark fell, but the kindling didn't catch light.
I'll try again, said Francesca, wriggling sir. She struck the
stones together again. I give you fire again. The tiny
pile refused to ignite. Francesca struck a third, fourth, and
fifth time, growing more and more frustrated. I don't think
it's going to work, the dragon said, somewhat amused. But
the otter shook her head, refusing to give up. It
will work, she insisted, I'll make fire, just like you do.
The dragon rolled his eyes, then blew a tiny flicker
of flame. The kindling caught immediately, burning hot and red.
Dragons don't need sticks or stones to create fire, he said,
It burns within us. There is no faking it. If
you can't produce fire whenever you need it, then you
can't be my friend, Francesca sighed, dropping the flint to
the ground. Fine, she said, admitting defeat. But I've not
given up yet. The dragon chuckled as the otter raced
back into the woods. She may not have fire, but
she had passion, he had to admit. Francesca wasn't sure
what else to try. Wings hadn't worked, and neither had fire.
Surely there was something to make her more dragon like.
Her hurried footsteps took her back towards home. Coming out
from under the trees beside the river, she was surprised
to see a stranger here, but no ordinary stranger. He
wore shining armor, had a sword hanging from his hip,
and was stood beside a large, powerful looking horse that
was bending to drink from the water. A knight, declared Francesca,
a dragon's sworn enemy. Dragons were always defeating knights. If
she could scare this night away from her river, then
surely that would be enough to impress the dragon. Emboldened,
Francesca slipped quietly into the river, swimming quietly towards the
unsuspecting night. She lurked in the shadowy depths like a crocodile,
before racing upwards and bursting from the water, bellowing the
loudest cry she could muster. That's a funny noise for
an otter to make, said the unterrified knight, even his
horse had barely twitched. I'm not just any otter, snapped Francesca.
I'm the fiercest, bravest, most dangerous otter you'll ever meet.
You'd better leave my river before I er before I
eat you. The horse snickered with amusement. The dangerous otter,
you say, repeated the knight, as he drew his sword.
Well I'm not the greatest knight there's ever been, but
even I can defeat an otter, even if it is fierce,
brave and dangerous. Francesca gulped with fright, stumbling backwards. What
had she been thinking? What was she going to do? Now?
Before I chop you into pieces? Said the knight. Let's
hear that scary roar of yours again. Francesca could barely
gather enough breath to speak, but she did her best.
This time. The roar was so great that the trees
rustled and the ground itself shook. The night squeaked like
a mouse, jumped on his horse and galloped away as
fast as he could. Only then did the dragon show himself.
I was doing just fine, Francesca protested, I was going
to scare him off, just like you would have done.
The dragon glared down at her. I rather think I
just did, and you're lucky that I did. That was
extremely dangerous, said the dragon. Now enough is enough. This
has to stop. Dragons and otters are nothing alike. We
could never be friends. We don't have a single thing
in common. Francesca hung her head and sighed, I suppose
I'll just go back to collecting my rocks. What was that,
asked the dragon, suddenly alert. Did you say you collect rocks? Yes,
I have loads, said Francesca, and she tipped the contents
of her bag onto the grass. Today I found some
smooth ones and bumpy ones, and patterned ones and colorful ones.
The dragon stared down at the stones in wonder. You
have a horde of rocks, he exclaimed, I suppose so, yes,
the otter replied. The dragon grinned at her broadly. But
so do I, he said. I have rocks of gold,
and rocks of silver, said the dragon, and emeralds and
rubies and sapphires. Do you have many, Francesca asked, hundreds,
laughed the dragon, thousands even, But I have nothing that
looks like the treasure you've found today. Would you like
to swap some, suggested Francesca as she scooped her fines
back into her bag. I most certainly would, agreed. The
dragon hop on my back and I'll take you to
my hoarde, and just like that, the otter and the
dragon became the best of friends. Animals fat otters live
in burrows built into the river bank called holts. They
have multiple ways in and out, but one is always
above the water level to allow them to escape in
case of flooding. Their territory will include up to thirty
kilometers that's about eighteen miles of river, and they'll have
several holts along that length. They will also rest amongst
thick vegetation called a couch. Dragons are often shown in
stories with hordes of gold and precious gems. This possibly
comes from ancient myths and legends where gods would use
a dragon as a guardian to protect something precious. Thank
you for your suggestions, Francesca. We hope you enjoyed the story,
and thank you to all of you across the world
for listening to it. Remember if you prefer your stories
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Join us next time for another great animal tale. Good Bye,