Deep in the misty mountains, nestled in a cave covered with soft moss, lived a very sleepy dragon named Dewey. Unlike other dragons who soared through the skies and breathed mighty flames, Dewey preferred snoozing in the sunshine and dreaming of marshmallow clouds.
The villagers of Misty Hollow loved Dewey, even if he was a little lazy. They often heard his loud, rumbling snores echoing through the hills. But one day, something terrible happened—a fierce storm rolled through the valley, knocking down trees and breaking the village’s wooden bridge.
“Oh no! We’re trapped!” cried the villagers.
Without the bridge, no one could cross the river to get food or supplies. They needed help, but who would be strong enough to carry heavy logs and rebuild the bridge?
“The only one big enough is… Dewey,” said the village baker.
The villagers hiked up the mountain to Dewey’s cave.
“Dewey! Wake up! We need you!” they called.
But Dewey just rolled over and snored louder.
Then little Ellie, the bravest child in the village, had an idea. She picked up a pot and a wooden spoon and—BANG! BANG! BANG!—clanged them together right next to Dewey’s ear.
“WAHHH!” Dewey shot straight up, his wings flapping wildly. “What’s happening? Is it lunchtime?”
“No, Dewey! The village needs your help! The bridge is broken!” Ellie explained.
Dewey yawned. “But I’m so sleepy…”
Ellie crossed her arms. “You can nap later. Right now, we need a hero.”
At that word—hero—something stirred inside Dewey. No one had ever called him that before. Could he really be brave?
Dewey stretched his big wings, shook the sleep from his scales, and took off toward the village. His mighty wings sent powerful gusts of wind that made the villagers cheer.
With a deep breath, Dewey blew a gentle, fiery puff to warm the villagers, who had been shivering from the storm. Then, he lifted giant logs, carrying them across the river. His strong tail helped push heavy rocks back into place.
“Almost done!” cheered the villagers.
After hours of hard work, the new bridge stood tall and strong. The villagers clapped and cheered.
“Hooray for Dewey! Our brave dragon hero!”
Dewey blushed—he wasn’t just the sleepy dragon anymore. He was a hero.
That night, Dewey curled up in his cave, feeling prouder than ever. As he drifted off to sleep, he smiled, knowing that sometimes, even the sleepiest dragon can have a big adventure.
And from that day on, whenever the village needed help, they knew exactly where to go.
Even if it meant waking up the Sleepy Dragon—with a loud BANG! BANG! BANG!
