Once upon a time there was a little cottage, half a mile's journey from the city. In the house lived a little old lady. The little old lady was very nice to everyone, and everyone loved her.

It was spring, a quite usual day, when she had a sudden visitor: a hunter who had traveled far and wide to find a dragon.

"A dragon?" The little old lady shrugged. "We have no dragons here. Would you like a cup of tea instead?"

The hunter accepted the offer. While they were drinking tea, the little old lady politely asked questions about the man's quest.

"For how long have you been tracking this... dragon?"

"For ten years now. It is a clever one and can change its form. Usually it forgets something important, though, and reveals its true form by mistake. So, have you seen any gloomy men wandering around?"

The little old lady frowned. "I don't remember seeing any. We are not a very big village, so we know each other well. If a dragon would appear on the village square, I think someone would notice it! Are you sure that the dragon is here?" The little old lady looked a bit worried.

The hunter smiled. "No. I do not count on it. It is only a hunch. The tracks I follow might be there just to lead me to the wrong direction." He sipped his tea. "Your garden looks lovely, by the way. If your carrots grow to be a bit bigger they will not fit in there anymore. The cabbages look nice, too."

The little old lady all but blushed. "Oh, people say that I really have the green thumb, but I think I just take good care of them. I mean, what else is there to do here? I can't go to the village every day, because of my old knees, so I spend a lot of time looking after my vegetables." She smiled, pleased by the hunter's remark.

The day went on. It rained cats and dogs outside, so the hunter stayed over dinner, too.

The sun was already setting and the rain still poured outside. The little old lady was knitting. The hunter polished his weapon. Suddenly he stood up and pointed his rifle at the little old lady.

"You were clever, but not clever enough."

The little old lady smiled. "What are you talking about, dear?"

"The garden. It's still spring. No carrot gets that huge just after planting. Not to mention the cabbages. Any last words?"

The little old lady just smiled. When the hunter started pulling the trigger, slowly, a voice thundered behind him, by the door.

"You, my dear, were clever as well, but as said, not clever enough. The tracks were there to lead you just where I wanted. Feeling dizzy yet, are you?"

The hunter grinned and turned to the door. "I'm afraid I didn't get any poison with my tea, food or -" There was nothing behind him. Turning back, he noticed that the little old lady had disappeared. A huge owl came crashing through a window and attacked him. The hunter managed to shoot it, and stepped back. The corpse was motionless. The hunter laughed.

"Is this all you can do?" He shouted, and reloaded his weapon. He heard a sound from the direction of the kitchen, and went there. In the kitchen he saw the little old lady. The hunter raised his gun and shot the little old lady. As she was falling, she threw a milk bottle at him.

It crashed and the fluid splashed all over his face. Swearing, he wiped it off. It itched and burned his skin.

The "milk" on the floor begun changing form, swallowing the hunter's feet. He fell.

The dragon slowly digested the hunter.

After that, it got rid of the little old lady's dead body. When it was content and satiated, it transformed into an owl and flew away.

Years later, in a little cottage outside the town, a lonesome little old lady opened her door to a stranger. The stranger told her a horrific story of how he was running from a madman. The little old lady took him in.

Afterwards, the people who lived nearby recall that the little old lady's behaviour changed slightly. She became interested in gardening, for one. Some of them also occasionally wondered why the birch at her yard never dropped its leaves.