ANGUS & THE DRAGON

Bedrule, Scotland 1652
“Angus!”, the ol’ cook called from the doorway. Angus Turnebull looked up from where he was pulling up onions in the garden behind the kitchen . “Ay, Nan?”, Angus inquired. “I need ye to gather some blaeberries. I mean to make a pie fer yer Uncle’s breithlá.” Blaeberry pie was a main staple at Uncle William’s birthday celebration and Agnes Còcaire made the best. “Well, go on! Haste ye back, dear lad!” “Ay!”, said Angus grabbing a basket and running out the back gate. If Angus was anything, he was indeed swift. He was the fastest in the family, for certain; Probably the fastest in the parish. That didn’t seem to impress the rest of the Turnebull clan though. The Turnebull’s were widely known for their strength, bravery, and often their temper. A tall, lanky lad of 16, Angus was neither strong nor brave. He looked nothing like his father, Uncle, or male cousins. They were much more stout with broad shoulders, burly chests, and thick copper colored hair. Angus slowed to a walk as he came to a wooded area dotted with shrubs covered in light green oval shaped leaves, little pink flowers, and little round purple berries. He brushed back a long lock of sandy brown hair that had come loose from the twine with which he had tied it. As he gathered berries he began to wonder what his mother looked like. “I bet I resemble her”, he thought, while imagining what life would have been like growing up with a loving mother. When he pictured his mother, he saw her with long sandy brown hair and light blue eyes like his own; a few freckles sprinkled across her nose. He had been told that she was a beauty.

“Yer mum was the only lass who could have captured John Turnebull’s heart”, Agnes would say. After his mother died giving birth to him, his father decided to move back to Bedrule Castle to help his Uncle William manage the family’s affairs. The castle is the only home he had ever known. He couldn’t really complain much about his life. Even though his Uncle and cousins teased him, they meant no harm. Still, it did make him feel like he didn’t fit in with the rest of the clan. I guess that is why he spent so much time in the kitchen with Agnes. Agnes had been the cook at Bedrule Castle since before Angus was even born. She was never able to have children of her own, but when Angus arrived, she took to him like a mother hen. She was the closest thing to a mother that he would ever know. Angus called her "Nan" for this reason. She was his family. The sound of something in the distance broke into this thoughts. What is that? He sat his basket down and began to walk toward the noise. Angus could see what looked like a hole in the ground about 40 feet away. It sounded like an animal was trapped inside. “Ainslies’ must be settin’ traps on our land agin! Uncle wull be gey crabbit when he hears!” The Turnebull and Ainslies clans had been feuding for centuries. If they indeed had set a game trap on Turnebull land, there would likely be a bloody fight. Angus decided that he should help the poor animal get free, but as he moved closer he could see that, whatever game this was, it was large and was growling. “Eh...mibbie ah shuid tell th' ithers.” What should Angus do:

  1. Try to help the trapped animal even though it could be dangerous?
  2. Run home and tell the family?