My Evil Dragon Daddy.....
Imagining the Young Dragon standing in front of his tombstone, tearfully murmuring "My Evil Dragon Daddy," Lance felt an inexplicable sense of anticipation.
His enthusiasm for painting intensified, he simply had to show the Young Dragon this painting, to have her remember this day.
The only imperfection was that this Black Dragon wasn't in the painting. No matter, he thought, when the Young Dragon learned to paint, she could make one of him.
Concentrating his mind, casting aside the assorted thoughts that cluttered his brain, Lance began to paint with undivided focus.
The Young Dragon perched on Turtle's back was startled when she saw the Evil Dragon squatting on the beach, painting. When she noticed the easel before the Evil Dragon and the dyes placed on either side of his body, a terrified hue emerged in her amethyst, vertical pupils.
Oh no, the Evil Dragon is painting!
People painted by the Evil Dragon... all ended up dead.....