On an island joined to the coast by a huge causeway, visible only at low tide, resides a Great Red Dragon. Standing 23 metres high with a wingspan some 30 metres, he is a truly awesome beast, in the dragon world seen as a handsome specimen. His bright red markings and nasal and chin horns and paddle rudder on his tail make him stand out from the crowd on any day of the week. One could not possibly miss him. Many have flocked to the island just to catch a glimpse of this magnificent beast but many have been disappointed, for two reasons.

He doesn’t like crowds, they are too noisy and they throw litter all over the place and always want pictures of him which means he has to sit still for far too long while some budding artistic genius faffs about splashing paint everywhere by which time his cocoa is cold. No, he’s not playing that game anymore and so hides at low tide. Secondly, It’s that same tide that makes it difficult for the sightseers, the sea always far too rough.  Tourism, a recent phenomena, is the one thing that really cheeses him off. Why can’t these Peeps find more useful things to do with their time instead of travelling long distances just to gawk at something or other.

There wouldn’t be any of those dreadful touristy types today, however. Today he was going to be visited by a very special traveller. It would be highly unlikely for tourists to be around today anyway. The wind was whipping the sea up into a frenzy and the rain was, well, very rainy. It was safe to say that no one in their right mind would venture anywhere on a day like this one. In his warm and cosy one storey bachelor cave, situated just ten metres from the summit of the island of Ynys Tan’s one great mountain, our Big Red Dragon was settling down to some serious snoozing when he heard a dull thud from just outside the entrance. It was no good, he wasn’t going to rest until he knew what had made that sound. As he began to slide the huge rock away from its place he glimpsed through the rain a totally unexpected sight. There, dripping wet, stood the biggest blue mass of fur he had ever seen.

‘Greetings, cuz! Aren’t you going to invite me in?’

‘Well bless my canards, if it isn't, er, who exactly is it?’

‘I’m your distant, very wet and getting wetter, cousin from the far north, Arctic Dragon, Windy Blu at your service.’

‘Sorry, come on in, I’m forgetting my manners. It’s the tourists you know, they get you like that. Come on in, dry yourself. I’m right out of ignitables at present but I can get you a nice fresh, oh, wait a minute, I had the last one yesterday.’

‘It’s okay, Idris, I’m fine. I ate before I left Windy Ho.

‘Well then, it's nice of you to drop in.’

‘Yes, had a little matter to attend to up North but once that was finished with I thought it’d be nice to visit my cousin here in Gwalia and I must say, the wet welcome to this part of the world matches the wet send off I had. Anyway, tell me what you have been up to, I mean, you're doing alright aren't you, having your own island and all.’

Over a hot cocoa Idris began telling Windy all about how he came to be on his own island, how it was from necessity owing to the ridicule he was getting from his kind over how he talked. He got so fed up with it he went off in search of and found Ynys Tan, perfect for his needs, far enough away from criticism. Until, that is, the appearance of them, the tourists. They were now making his life a real misery with their noisy behaviour and the mess they left behind them. He confessed to almost zapping one party because they got him so cross but he restrained himself and let them off with a bit of a dragony roar. This, unfortunately, was seen as a bonus by the damn sightseers who came to expect it every time.

‘Got a bit of a problem there Cuz. One thing you mustn’t do is let it get to you. It could make you bitter and that would be a real shame, Dangerous even.’

‘Dangerous? How do you mean, Dangerous for who?’ 

‘For you, my friend, for you. It could turn you all bitter and twisted and I know something about that.’

Outside, hovering over the mainland, a dark cloud moved ominously, heading south. The rain began to take on an unnatural intensity and there were rumblings which were getting louder as they followed the dark mass. Within the hour a raging storm had developed outside, while inside, Idris, the big red dragon was in full flow regaling cousin Windy with stories about the accused tourists and their vile behaviour and how they made him feel more and more angry as time went on. And there was another thing, this blasted weather was getting worse, which he blamed them for.

Windy was very thoughtful as he listened to his cousin and was beginning to feel uneasy. A familiar pattern was emerging, a pattern that worried him. He’s experienced some like this before.

‘What you need is a change.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes, you need a change of perspective and I have an idea.’

‘Yuh do?’ Idris was curious.

  ‘Yes, you need a complete change. Have you exercised your shape changing abilities recently?’

‘My what?’

‘Your ability to change your shape. You know, take on an entirely different form.’

‘Now why the hell should I do that?’ Idris thought his visitor was even weirder than first impressions.

‘Seriously, if you could change your shape, take on that of your antagonists.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes, you could then see things from their slide and maybe learn something about them and about yourself.’

‘I think your journey here has been too much and you need some rest. A good night's sleep will sort you out.’

‘Think about it, Cuz, seriously. Sleep on it. This could be a way of diverting something really bad, believe me.

That night Idris found it difficult to get to sleep. He kept turning over and over what his blue cousin from the north had told him. He vaguely remembers hearing stories when young about how his ancestors changed their shape on occasion. And how it was a little known fact that most dragons can do this but mostly choose not to, being perfectly happy with their own original one. (See Dinglebert Slaptyback’s Tome on Beastiology. Second Edition. 1846 )  

In the morning the sun shone on the rocky contours of Ynys Tan, still glistening from the rain of the previous night, it had rained all through till dawn.

‘Morning Cuz, sleep well I trust?’

‘Thanks to you, NO, I didn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said about shape-changing. How, exactly, will that help me?’

‘Well, you could get out there among the Peeps and find out more about them, things you couldn’t find out as a dragon for starters. You could get close and listen in to what they talk about, maybe get to understand them better.’

‘I already understand them, they’re noisy, messy and downright bloody wude. What more is there to understand?’

‘Okay, Cuz, let me put it another way. A great human general once said, or one will say, I’m sure, “Know your enemy.” When you know how they think you can beat them.’

‘Huh! I can beat them easily with one hot sneeze’

‘I’m trying to tell you, warn you not to let your anger rule you or believe me it’ll destroy you. Believe me, I’ve witnessed it first hand. It’s not nice, you wouldn’t like it, you really wouldn’t.’

‘As if to punctuate what Windy had said there was a mighty clap of thunder which was somewhat incongruous on such a fine sunny morning. 

The day was spent practising shape changing, Big Red was having difficulty coming down from his usual 23 metre height to that of the Peeps who stand at just a wee bit over one metre, also he had to stop adding bits that simply didn’t fit, like horns, and cannards. Eventually he managed it and both he and Windy were ready to venture out into the world of the Peeps of Mid Gwalia.