by Margot Spronk 1. The Courting Gwyn sank into a Downward Dog, extending her claws to deepen the stretch, unfortunately slashing her purple yoga mat, and not for the first time. Her previously even breathing stuttered, as her feline brain popped up an errant thought: why wasn’t this pose named the Downward Cat? No dog could bow their spines until their elbows touched the ground like a cat could. Maybe a dachshund — but that would look ridiculous. Gwyn giggled, exposing her canines, then snapped her jaws shut. Always…dogs. Never cats. She shuffled her hind legs closer to her front paws and lifted her knees onto her elbows, precariously assuming…

by Emmie Christie When Jan reached four years into sixty, his daughter and her son flew off into the glorious first exploration past the Milky Way to somewhere called Z-1. He waved them off like someone in Victorian England would’ve waved off a ship headed to the New World, smiling with cracked lips, his stomach riddled with resentment. He plodded home and stared down a bottle of scotch. The bottle won. Drunk, he studied the way of things. The way the old wooden fence withered in the bracing space winds, those that had descended on Earth hungering for trees and mountains. He studied the way the light tangled like necklaces…

by Mocha Cookie Crumble The restaurant Koda had chosen was beautiful — seating along the water, with fairy lights sparkling overhead and a rose on each table. With the sun setting over the ocean, casting a warm light over the earth, it was as romantic as you could get. So why was he so nervous? He resisted the urge to slick his soft ears back, instead facing them forward as he spotted Lilian. Oh, she was beautiful, never more so than tonight. Her fur was sleek and orange, her tail fluffy and swaying as she walked. A tight black dress hugged her hips. The sunset played up the pink-red tones…

by Beth Dawkins My talons pierce the back of a Tsintaosaurus. I roll forward, sinking my fangs into its hide. The blood tastes unlike the sweet, life-giving nectar of yesterday. It is foul and sour with a stench that coats the inside of my nose. I hear a song of discontent from one of my sisters. Another song splits the air. I pull out my fangs, and my mouth tingles. There is a sandy consistency that covers my tongue. We need the blood. The hungry and the young will die without it. We scream out frustration until I am sure our song will attract the Qianzhousaruses who watch over the…

by Chad Gayle If your child’s a dragon, there’s no need to explain your tattered clothes or the smoke rings round your eyes. We know how your eyebrows got singed, and we know you spent half an hour or more circling the parking lot because you really didn’t want to walk through those double doors. You didn’t want to take your place among us, to admit by your very presence that you’re afraid of your young dragon, nor do you want to acknowledge that the love you’ve always felt for the magical creature living in your midst is fraught, these days, with dread and disappointment. Most of all, you’d rather…

by Mary Jo Rabe It turned out to be a perfect time for saving the universe. Fortunately, Fred the resident farm opossum was paying attention, as always. After a long nap, some careful foraging activity, and resultant nibbling, Fred the opossum laid his moderately chubby body down on the brown grass and dipped the sticky claws on his front feet tentatively into the muddy duck pond. The ducks flew off, quacking loudly in protest but acknowledging the potential danger of Fred’s presence. Completely unnecessary. Fred would never bother trying to kill a duck. Too much effort involved. Duck cadavers, marinated in the pond for a couple of days and covered…

by Erin Brown The wolf had the brambles to thank for the extra few minutes of life.  He had chosen to sleep in the tangle because it had grown a roof of snow, keeping him nearly warm through the winter night, as well as completely hidden.  As a result, when the smell of meat and spices and the sweetness of song roused his body in the early morning, the thorns arrested his instinctive pounce before his mind awoke enough to remember caution.  Then he recognized the voice. The song was sweet as any sent to greet a morning’s sunlight, and the smell of the meat twisted his stomach into knots,…

by Rebecca E. Treasure The bastard left me. Kissed the first pair of pert red lips under a tiara he found. Not a care for our hundreds of children, some of them still without legs, if you can believe it. After all we’ve been through. After all I’d done for him. The jerk flouncing away with that princess is nothing like the frog I met. Found him moping at the side of the pond, his ribbit a pathetic ribbon of noise barely worthy of the name. When he hopped away from me, that wild look in his eyes, he nearly toppled into the mud sideways. I thought it was endearing…

by Ian Madison Keller With a thought and a wave magic flowed from Queen Seuan’s hand and into the wood of her throne, reshaping it to a more comfortable configuration. “Continue.” The supplicant droned on, and she stifled the urge to abandon her royal duties and merge minds with her bonded, Tukura, who was out romping through the ornamental gardens. The blossoms at the end of her vine-hair curled open in pleasure at the thought, but her duties… always her duties first. The sunlight tasted of autumn harvesting. Her seedling-children, growing tall in her hidden nursery plot, were almost ready to pull up their roots and become sproutlings. At least,…