BONUS! Scenes from the sequel that will never be, just for you!

Kayley woke up to a commotion outside.

Sitting up in bed, she looked out her window to see a familiar hulking, winged shape alighting onto her lawn. The entire household was already there, armed with pitchforks and anything else that could serve as a weapon, advancing toward him haltingly as though unsure whether to charge or run and hide. Garret, Cornwall and Devon were running fearlessly to the forefront, and Kayley could see the two-headed dragon's chest swelling to unleash a blast of fire.

She thrust her head out the window and screamed with all her might, "STOP!"

Her shout was so piercing that everyone stopped. Cornwall and Devon tripped over their own feet and landed face-first onto the grass. Kayley leaped out the window in a graceful tangle of white, and ran. Past the astonished farm hands, she sprinted to the griffin's side and pressed herself to his shoulder. "It's all right!"

The griffin, knowing a good show was needed, rubbed his head against Kayley like a faithful pet as she stroked him. "See?" She addressed their startled stares, "it's all right."

Jaw slack, Cornwall whispered something a confused Garrett, whose face twisted in disbelief. Juliana was the first to break through the shock and stepped forward with a cloak to cover her daughter's nightgown-clad body, apparently more concerned by Kayley's immodesty than the griffin.

Kayley forgot them all for a moment, stroking the griffin. Her hand found a damp patch of his feathers, and her fingers came away wet and red. She bent and saw that his foreleg, too, was muddied with blood. Her stomach plummeted. "You're hurt? Not again…"

She led him gently away, leaving the assembled household in stunned silence.

000

Cornwall glared over at the griffin. "I don't get it," he muttered, watching as Kayley knelt beside the winged creature and stroked his fur. "What's that big ugly featherbag got that we don't?"

Devon began to sing in a quavering but melodic tone, "Tale as old as tiiiiiiime, song as old as rhyyyyyyyyme…" until Cornwall grabbed him by the muzzle and growled, "Don't."

000

"Hey, buddy."

The griffin stiffened as a familiar, two-headed dragon moved close to his side, both heads wearing similar expressions of scornful mistrust.

"If we could have a word." Devon's tone was terse but polite, while Cornwall growled through his teeth. "Yeah, we got somethin' to discuss."

"It has come to our attention that our lovely young lady seems to rather… like you."

"But we don't."

"And thus, should any harm from you befall a single hair of dear Kayley's head…"

Cornwall leaned closer, smoke coiling from his nostrils, and jabbed a claw into the griffin's face. "Then we know what's for dinner, got it?"

The fur stood up along the griffin's shoulders, but his voice was cool. "Really. And how will I be cooked?"

"Roasted," snarled Cornwall. "Burnt to a crunchy, crispy—"

"No, no, no." Devon shook his long head. "Medium rare, with a soft pink inside and a garnish of—"

"Roasted!'

"Medium well!"

"Roasted!'

"Medium well!"

"Just because you haven't the faintest sense of good taste—!"

"Just 'cause you wouldn't know good cookin' if it waltzed up and bit ya on the tail—!"

The smoke withered up from their nostrils as they continued yelling, and began whacking one another on the head. Chuckling to himself, the griffin slunk back into the barn.

That was as far as I got for ideas for a sequel, which sadly died with the story. It's probably for the best, as I never got further than the griffin returning, and seeing him interact with Devon and Cornwall (which would have been a lot of fun).

So there you have it. Thank you so, so much to everyone who read and reviewed!