Marie’s eyes were glued to the television as they never had been before in her entire life.
What she was seeing was impossible. But as she watched, there was no announcement that this was really just the trailer from some upcoming movie. There was no “April fools.” If the BBC was playing a prank on people, this was far more incredible than any spaghetti trees.
“Authorities say the creature was spotted near Brighton pier at about six in the morning today,” said the bland presenter, looking as interested in the story as if she’d been telling them about London congestion. “No organization has yet taken responsibility.”
There was only a minute or so of footage, and it looped again behind the presenter as she introduced a policeman. “Officer Davies was on the scene. Tell us what you saw, Officer.”
A woman’s voice came in, a little fuzzy from whatever phone she was using. Marie rose from the old worn couch, ignoring her mother’s glare.
“You really shouldn’t watch from that close, dear. You’ll ruin your eyes.” Her mom sounded exactly like the presenter—like she was barely paying attention. She barely even looked, just kept pulling out clean laundry from the basket and folding it onto the sofa beside her.
“Are you seeing this?” Marie asked, stupefied. “Mum, that’s a dragon! It just…” There was a boat in the distance in one of the shots. She started listening to the tele again.
“The beach was still closed from last night’s storm, and we got reports from a few concerned residents about a shipwreck. My partner and I headed over to see if everything was alright, or if the boat was abandoned… and an animal attacked us.”
“It’s not what it seems,” Mum said, exasperated. “Look at the size of that boat. Whoever was running that puppet must’ve been in there. It’s a trick, dear. There’s no such thing as dragons.”
Marie pointed at the TV, stepping to the side. The camera footage wasn’t good—it had come from police dashcams, judging by the glass look and the car all around it. But it was clear enough, not like some blurry bigfoot footage. “Look at that, Mum! It’s breathing real fire!”
Her mom shook her head. “You mean the BBC is advertising their next original program? They really shouldn’t be allowed to lead people on like this.” She clucked her tongue, then lifted another white shirt to fold.
“It was in Brighton,” Marie said, folding her arms. “Just a few kilometers south of us. Aren’t you worried about…”
“About a dragon loose in the hill?” Mum rolled her eyes. “If you think that’s going to get you out of class tomorrow, you can put that thought to bed. You’re still going.”
But for once, Marie wasn’t trying to get out of school. She didn’t care anymore. How are they all taking this so calmly? Everything we know is different…
Marie turned, stomping one annoyed foot. “Whatever.” She pulled out her phone, wiping off a bit of grease with a finger, and wasn’t surprised there were dozens of messages waiting for her.
Helen’s dominated her feed, so many notifications that they took up most of the space.
are you seeing this
no way
turn on bbc3 you have to see this
its right there
come on Marie this is important
Marie stop it
you have to hear what they’re saying
David, her only other friend her age in the entire village, had left only one message, though it had arrived at about the same time. In David’s usual way, it wasn’t a message at all, but a link to a page somewhere. She didn’t recognize the website, but she could read “Dragon Sighting in Brighton” along with the other internet gibberish.
Her mother didn’t pay any attention to her as she slipped into the back of the flat, dodging through the kitchen into her bedroom. She could distantly hear the television as it changed from the news to a rerun of Doctor Who. You watch that Mum, and you don’t care when an actual dragon shows up in Britain.
Marie’s room was the only place she could feel comfortable in her flat—the only place that didn’t feel surgical clean all the time. Her mom only worked a few shifts a week at the hospital anymore, but she sure spent plenty of her time scrubbing down the flat as though there were sick people everywhere.
Marie kept her own dirty clothes in a pile near the closet, a fairly small one now that the laundry had just been done. Her bed was old and worn just like everything in the flat, but it was comfortable enough for her to plop down, brushing some unruly blonde hair out of her eyes as she opened David’s link.
It was on a website apparently devoted to “cryptid hunting,” something she’d never heard of before, but now she could guess. Instead of stupid wastes of time like Nessie and elves, this page was filled with actual photographs, most of which looked like they’d come from CCTV cameras on the pier. There were a few other angles from police cameras too, those not chosen by the broadcast. And a lot of people theorizing.
They were talking too much to keep Marie’s interest, but she did investigate some of the pictures.
The dragon was about as big as she was, maybe a little taller. But that wasn’t the only photo.
There had apparently been other things there, because some of the images contained more than just the dragon. Most depicted something Maria might’ve expected to find on a Mongolian Steppe, though it was a little smaller than the ones she’d seen on Earth documentaries.
But there were a few smaller images, caught from the pier shops but aimed far beyond their usual range. She couldn’t make out whatever they were aiming at very clearly, but there were multiple shapes for sure.
That one looks like a horse, but who would paint it like that? And those other ones are flying. That probably shouldn’t surprise her—the dragon was flying, so why not the rest?
Her phone started vibrating, and the thread was replaced with Helen’s picture taken during last year’s class trip, when she had stood in front of one of the Queen’s Guard making silly faces. Neither of them had been able to make them laugh.
“Hey,” she said, putting the phone on speaker so she could keep reading what people were saying. Helen’s thick Scottish accent made her a little harder to understand, but she was used to it by now. “You do what I asked or what? You see the tele?”
“Yeah,” she flopped onto her back. “I saw. My mum doesn’t think it’s real.”
“Well a ‘course it ain’t real,” Helen said, though her tone was at least less scornful. “But it’s wicked cool, ain’t it? Wonder what movie it’s for.”
“You think a movie would try to trick people like this? The presenter sounded like she was just reporting.”
“The presenter sounded…” Helen repeated. “Who cares? Maybe they paid her to play along? Or maybe she’s as stupid as you?”
Marie couldn’t hear talk like that from anyone else and not feel hurt by it. But Helen was her friend, and the meaner she was, the more friendly that meant she was becoming.
“Well maybe you’re the stupid one for not believing it,” she countered. “They’ve got so many angles. It’s a real dragon, I’m telling you.”
“Kinda small thing, ain’t he? Not half as big as the ones in Harry Potter.”
“Maybe it’s a baby dragon.”
“A wee little baby,” Helen repeated. Now her voice had taken on a singsong quality, one that grated on Marie’s ears.
“Whatever. Maybe I’m going to go out and find it. Tele said they went north… that’s right towards us. I think you’re just too scared we might find ‘em.”
“I see where this is goin’.” Helen still sounded mocking. “We’re goin’ on a right little snipe hunt, eh? Like last summer? Think you’re gonna lead me on? That’s ripe smell I tell you what.”
How are we even speaking the same language? But Marie didn’t say that—she couldn’t bring herself to be mean in jest like Helen could. It got too hard to tell the difference.
“I’m going to call David right now,” she said. “And he’ll want to come too. Bet you wouldn’t want to miss the trip then.”
Silence, for nearly eight whole seconds. A practical eternity from Helen. “I’m going then.”
Marie couldn’t suppress a giggle. “I’ll meet you at your place. I’m sure big animals like that would want to stay away from the village.”
“You be the one to call him, right?”
“Right.” She hung up. She didn’t actually call David, though. While their friend would’ve happily answered a message from Helen, he got incredibly shy and evasive if Marie contacted him alone.
Hey, Helen and I are going hunting for those things. You could bring that fancy new camera you just got from your birthday. Maybe we’ll find them.
As she’d expected, David responded almost immediately.
Meeting at Helen’s place?
Yeah.
Half an hour.
Marie flopped down from her bed, catching herself in front of the wall-length mirror. She straightened, brushed her hair into something that vaguely approximated orderly, then took a scrunchy off her desk and stuck it into a rough ponytail.
That done, she yanked her scuffed-up pink bicycle helmet off the wall, and made her way back through the kitchen.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
“Dragon hunting.” She didn’t even stop walking, just headed straight for the flat door.
Her mom didn’t look up. “Got your helmet?”
She answered by banging it against the wall.
“Be back before dark, sweetie. And don’t be too disappointed if you don’t find anything.”
As if. There’s more than just dragons, and they’re all headed this way. We’d have to be stupid not to find them.
Marie’s old bike was leaning up against the side of the house inside the front garden. Her mom didn’t care that she parked it on the grass—there was nothing else alive in here. She turned it around, ran a hand on the worn vinyl seat to get it dry, then hopped up to start riding.
It was a fairly long trip through the village, but Marie enjoyed the ride. She kept to the sidewalks when they existed, but more often than not she was riding along dirt roads frequented by tractors and not cars.
At least the gray sky was clearing a little from last night’s storm. She could see the sun again, and the birds were coming back out. Tomorrow would be another nice day wasted in school.
Helen’s family owned the largest farm in town—what had once been several different properties all bought out over the years. That hadn’t exactly made them popular—but Marie didn’t care. Helen was one of the only girls her age, and the only one who didn’t care how old her clothes were or that she never had pocket money.
But she met David first—the kid had been shorter than her since a few months ago, something she never ceased to remind him about. He wore his usual heavy backpack of stuff they probably wouldn’t need, sitting astride a gas-assisted bike he probably shouldn’t be allowed to use. But out here the rules were more guidelines than anything.
“Ready to hunt some dragons?” she asked, pulling up alongside him. “You look like we could go camping for a week.”
“Your mum’d never let you,” he said, looking away.
She giggled. “I wasn’t suggesting we do it.” She stopped, then lifted her crappy phone out of her pocket. “Helen, get out here. David’s waiting for you.”
Her friend didn’t respond, but a few seconds later and she emerged from inside the huge house, jogging up the path in a skirt way shorter than Marie would’ve been allowed to wear. She’d chosen white like an idiot, probably just wanting that stupid hair to stand out, and not caring that they’d be climbing through a dirty forest the day after a storm. Have fun losing those expensive sandals in the mud.
“Hey David,” she called from the other side of the mechanical fence, pressing a few buttons on the keypad. It lifted lazily out of her way, and she jogged underneath before it could start moving back down again.
“Oh, hey Helen. So… do you have any idea where we should be looking?”
“Nope!” Marie exclaimed, grinning wider. “Let’s go!”
Now this is interesting. I can't wait to see these characters interact with the youngsters!
So this is set in England? Really? That makes the shooting from the first chapter even more ridiculous.
England is not America. I know in America even little old ladies walk around with senmi-automatic weapons in their purses, and anyone can go into a shop and buy a gun with less ceremony than buying a pint of milk, but here in the UK, guns are a little harder to come by.
The only people who could possibly have had firearms to fire at Smoulder are the police, and not just the regular police, but a special unit that's only called out in special circumstances. I don't think there even is a SO19 group in Brighton. They'd have to be called in, and the shooting started before even the regular police got there. The only other option is that someone took a BB rifle from a fairground shooting stall, but that's even less plausible.
Gor blimey guvnor! She's a right one innit! Bloomin' mental!
Exactly what accent or dialect are you trying to emulate? I'll admit I am a Northerner mysself, born in Derbyshire and having lived in Liverpool for the last 20 years, but while I have heard the term Snipe Hunt, I've never heard the phrase 'that's a ripe smell'. Where is it supposed to be from.
We use miles, not kilometers btw. :)
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Heh, I wish. As an American gun owner, I can honestly say there is process to gun buying. While I was able to walk into a gun store and walk out less than an hour later with a semi automatic AR 15, they still had to get approval from the FBI, run a background check, and there was a chance I would have been put on a waiting list.
So, the UK. I feel like that probably means less chance of some armed up civilian just straight up murdering the students. That's a plus.
Hey, potential human friends. Maybe this school trip will work out in the end.
I wonder how will the kids react to knowing that First Contact came about due to a graduation project on a school of friendship
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One hour? You have no idea how absurdly fast that is. Where's the psychological profiling to see if you're mentally stable and without any violent tendencies? Where's the proof of need to carry a weapon?
You say there's a procedure, but to places with actual gun control the concept of such a trivial obstacle is ridiculous.
I think that's a symptom of Stockholm Syndrome.
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Well after all, it's hard to argue with "shall not be infringed." That is the context I am coming from, and the purpose of my previous comment was to inform someone uneducated with false presumptions, not to start a debate, which this will inevitably turn into if I don't get this out of the way right now.
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Fair enough, I won't press it too.
MORE! plz
This story is on the awesome upped by 11, its almost in the neighborhood. And we have our human cast now too.
Though the car description was not that detailed, then again, if it was, would been a spoiler for the location.
i.pinimg.com/originals/af/13/04/af130462ce7b64c4a126aa17e9d2cfc4.jpg
ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/660/cpsprodpb/AA63/production/_98791634_5a7b9dcd-0926-4753-9313-d6354125a2ac.jpg
Yeah, I had a hunch this was somewhere in England, but being the dirty American here () and thereby not exactly an expert of all things England, I couldn't be certain enough to say as such. Probably for the better, anyway.
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From what I've heard, that's still way less process than, well, just about anywhere else. According to statistics I saw not so long ago, America remains one of the easiest first world countries to get access to guns of any type. Interpret that how you will--I'm not looking to start an argument over the matter either, just stating a fact.
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I think that that's one of the big differences of values between Americans and Brits.
Americans look for a reason why someone shouldn't have a weapon.
Brits look for a reason why someone should.
I have to agree with the poster below, if this is happening in the United Kingdom, most likely the only people with guns would’ve been police, probably a special squad at that. And I doubt any cop is going to just randomly shoot at something they see flying in the sky. Even the most trigger-happy cops here in the United States do not shoot down drones willy-nilly.
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Since animal control was called in, wouldn't it mean there would be at least few people with guns just in case on hand?
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technically that only applies to retail guns. You can walk into a pawn shop and buy a gun without having to register or run a background check, or from a gun show. You still need a license to carry through
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If you read the full thing, it mentions bearing arms in the context of militias, not individual citizens. If they'd meant to make individual gun ownwership a right, wouldn't it say somthing like: "A large and imposing array of firearms, being necessary to shoot things in self-defence, the right of a person to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."
A one hour turnaround? I've waited longer than that for bus licence! I'm with the Inspector Fowler.
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Getting a gun isn't that easy in the states, though. Even here in Texas, the stereotype of rootin'-tootin'-gun-shootin'-est place in all of America, it took 3 solid weeks of paperwork, credentials and background psychological checks before we were able to buy even a small 9mm handgun, let alone a .308 rifle for hunting.
9238688
I understand that you're coming from a different perspective here, but do you really think being so intentionally obtuse about a topic you know is more complicated than that is going to convince anyone?
9238675
No, anyone who buys and sells modern guns commercially requires an FFL. That includes pawn shops, unless it's a gun designed before 1898.
9238675
I would also like to talk about the license to carry. That is only applicable in certain places for certain types of carry. In New Hampshire, you can legally conceal carry any gun you own legally without a licence. Here in North Carolina, I would need to have a CCW to conceal a gun, but I can open carry without a license.
Oh joy, the old "kids are right, parents are doubters" trope. I know it's petty of me, but please tell me the kids will get the chance to rub the truth in momma's face. I really don't like that trope when it's played straight.
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Another of these asswipes. The right of the PEOPLE to keep and bear arms. That's the 'individual citizens', Einstein. Anti-2A morons like you are trying to overcomplicate everything, it's really not that difficult.
That well-regulated militia thing is basically the National Guard now, we don't really have a need for that one anymore. That has nothing to do with the citizens. You'll pry my weapons from my cold dead hands.
Ah. A most enlightening interlude with the natives. And I believe Marie's answered her own question. This would change everything, which means a lot of people's minds have huddled up into little hedgehog-balls of denial so they don't have to face such a terrifying prospect. Thank goodness for neophiles.
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Given how at least one of the kids is a doubter and there are likely many adult believers on on the cryptid site, I don't think that's quite what we're dealing with.
9238675
False! Every place that sells weapons runs background checks. No background check, no gun. Simple as that.
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Fair point. I guess that was a bit knee-jerk of me. My bad.
9238715 Okay, that sounds far more reasonable.
9238724 I'm not here to convince anyone. And how is it obtuse to suggest that your second amendment may have other interpretations than, "Guns for everyone, WHEEE!" I believe it's called, collective rights theory.
All I'm saying is, that if this story is set in England, you need a damned good reason to have people shooting off firearms.
9238894 Someone who didn't pick up that I'm from the UK and therefore infinitely indifferent to you owning your own anti-tank rifle. The irony is, the way you reacted would be exactly the reason I'd not want you anything more dangerous than a pea shooter. If you're willing to fight to the death over some comment on a message board, I hate to think what will happen when someone does something that makes you mad while you're actually there to shoot them.
Actually, suddenly very glad there's an ocean between me and someone with a hair trigger temper and a firearm.
Dang. Didn't really thought of humans.
Well, surely am waiting for the next chapter
9238724 I'm not here to convince anyone. And how is it obtuse to suggest that your second amendment may have other interpretations than, "Guns for everyone, WHEEE!" I believe it's called, collective rights theory.
All I'm saying is, that if this story is set in England, you need a damned good reason to have people shooting off firearms.
Oh neat a perspective shift. This'll be interesting.
Oh so this is England... well I should have expected that, it was raining...
And this is surely the best way to present yourself under a story, with stereotypes.
CUE THE ITALIAN STEREOTYPES! : Pizza; Mandolino; Pasta; Spaghetti Meatball (spaghetti con polpette... why? They cleary are two separete dishes, un primo e un secondo...I'm shure it is fault of the Americans who put things into things for... THINGS!).
Enough with the semi-triggered italian self (up until pineapple pizza comes around again, because I know it will come back again).
Hi! Sono Dante Vail, the Italian one, as you can probably tell by my half broken english... it is not completly my fault if it has so much contraddictions to it's own rules...
Said that... I like this.
Why is that that on the foreing site I enjoy mostly light adventures and slice of life? On the italian ones I can ensure it is not like that...
The story is good. It is better than a lot of things that I read in my own language... even thoug that do not count as much considering the site on wich I usually read, but I'm digressing.
So the Young Six. Well I haven't read a lot about them, It is maybe time to change things up. It will be interesting to see how they interact with the humans.
And touching that... well those are some really big little ponies... They are taller then humans? They are bigger than normal horses... I probably messed things up with the conversion from feet to meters, but usually they are considered around 1 meter or so... so or those are some very tall young little ponies, or those are some rather small humans...
So England... well I would have made a comment on British gun laws and un-armed policemans, but considering the discussion that went on prior to this comment, I will stay away from that... even thoug we could open the Pandora's box on gun laws in Italy, but this is not the time nor the place...
Eh-ehy, England it's not that far away, maybe we could have some Italian coming by (probably not considering that we are usually not that well remembered by other countries... but hey, I could still hope).
Oh no! Not the accents and regional idioms. I've learned English trough You Tube meme videos, I'm not that great at understanding internal languages, it is already difficult to do it with my own language and dialects.
A Gas assisted bike? What in the what is that? I do not know anything similar to this in Italy. What is it? A bycicle powered by a gas tank and a turbine? What is that, it seem's dangerous...
Well the humans seem interesting for now, I will see how they work with the Equestrians, but for now they seem to work.
In the end I like this story. It had some hiccups in the second chapter, but nothing that important. I will continue readind it.
Detto questo, ci si vede al prossimo capitolo.
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I'll keep my response brief, and steer completely clear of 2nd amendment discussion. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Firearms_unit
Suffice it to say there are indeed police officers trained in the use of firearms and armed with said firearms should the need arise.
The statement "there are no Firearms Unit officers in Brighton" is a patently absurd one, however. It is a fictional story--there are no Equestrian dragons in Brighton either. The fact of the matter is that they do indeed exist, and could indeed be assigned in the universe this story takes place.
I am, however, someone who's only ever visited the UK, never lived there, so I do apologize for any errors down the road. I am doing my best, but it's just not going to be a perfect depiction like I could manage for my nation of residence.
Gasoline assisted bicycle?
a137.idata.over-blog.com/2/52/68/45/1974-4600-V1-orange-rs-copy-1.jpg
Yeah boy! Solex was the shit in the Netherlands in the 60's!
9239366 I never said there weren't armed police units in the UK. Remember, I'm from the UK! Sussex police (the police authority under which the Brighton and Hove is covered) will almost certainly have one. I'm even willing to conceed, that being a district with over 200,000 people in it, it might be their base rather than the city of Chichester, the county seat, which only has 20,000.
What I said was, there's no way one of them would be first responders to a shipwreck with animals wandering around. Animal control I could see, assuming they didn't think it was a crank call, but they'd normally be armed with tranquilisers. And if they for some reason had actual firearms with them from the start, their first response would not be to blaze away at an unfamiliar animal of unknown intent like some character out of a low grade action flick, but to attempt containment.
Of course, as you say, it's your story, and if you want to have Britian entirely populated by bowler hat wearing, tea drinking monkeys, that is your privilege. Just don't expect not to get called on it by British people.
Look, I get what you did from a Doylian viewpoint. You didn't want to initiate first contact there on the beach, so you came up with a way to scare the student six into running away. Though how exactly they got off Brighton beach and into the countryside to the noorth without being spotted is a mystery for the ages. The whole area is rather built up.
Assuming that they wrecked sonewhere near Brighton Palace Pier, the nearest open ground that leads north is to the east, past Brighton Marina. To the west it's solid waterfront until you reach Shoreham. But getting past Brighton Marina without being seen would be a trick, unless the shard of pearl Silverstream has could turn them all amphibious.
9239419
While it seems you've already made up your mind, I would like to point out one last thing for anyone else who might be reading this--they weren't the first responders. Read the chapter carefully. Initially we get a pair of officers, hard to say exactly what kind since it was from a nonhuman perspective. There's a brief interaction, and the two officers retreat to call for backup. Then many minutes pass, and by the time the young six attempt their escape, backup has arrived in the form of many officers on the pier.
The firearms unit were not the first responders on the scene, they were among many other officers called in once it was clear the situation was out of control.
So they're actually south of London? OK then.
But how big are they compared to the Humans?
9238688
While I'm not a huge fan of random people lugging around firearms (despite being a Texan), that's absolutely not what the Second Amendment says. Here, I'll re-word it in modern English for you:
"Because a military is necessary for a government to function, the right of normal citizens to own and wield firearms shall not be infringed."
Remember, the people who wrote this had just come out of a war against an autocracy, and their personal weapons were one of the reasons it was possible. They knew that the reasons they had for revolting could happen again, and they wanted to ensure that the people of the United States would have the tools necessary to revolt against the government they were building if it became necessary. Thomas Jefferson was even in favor of rebellion to keep democracy strong; while there are many misquotes of him on the subject, he did suggest that the US having a revolution every 150 years or so would be a good thing. By that philosophy, we're overdue.
Britain huh? Not what I was expecting but I'm cool with it.
DREAM CAREER CRUSADERS, YAY!
...I couldn't think of an equivalent for cutie mark...
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This is meant to improve knowledge=power
Back in the day, the term "militia" meant a group of armed civilians. It can be organized or not. The national guard is organized militia. The military is government. The people is unorganized militia. If the wording of the 2nd amendment is not modern enough for you, then look up the Efficiency of Militia Bill H.R. 11654, of June 28, 1902. That is the second name of the bill, the common name is not appropriate for this story rating. This bill CANNOT be repealed as repealing it would be against the constitution itself. This bill is the sole reason that the government has not recently banned any firearm. Without this bill or 2nd amendment our government would have no real reason to listen to the populace. They would then be able to enforce tyranical laws. They would have the military, we would have pitchforks. I can throw a javelin decently far but think I'd be hiding if I didn't own my firearms. Good day to all.
Human Cutie Mark Crusaders Go!
Gas-powered bicycle -- Scootaloo.
Down to earth farmer -- Apple Bloom.
Rebelling against a parent that is highly cleaned, organized, proper: Sweetie Belle.
===
I will stay clear of the second amendment debate, except to say that it talks about "well regulated militias". And mention that until very recently, it was consistently ruled as the rights of states to arm their militias. It only changed to "the right of people to own guns" after a generation (more than 20 years) of propaganda by groups willing to spend years to promote their viewpoint -- essentially brainwashing a new generation of teachers that this was an OK reading.
9316199
Them Brits know what to do with Dragons! I've seen "Reign Of Fire"!
9239440
That still doesn't make much sense. How does seeing a wild animal justify calling in a firearms unit?
I've been similarly confused as previous commenters about the gunfire in the previous chapter. I didn't think UK police normally carry firearms, and I'd be surprised if animal control there carries it either. Then again, if they reported a sighting of a yak, I guess firearm support shouldn't be all that surprising.
Either way, it's refreshing to see a fic on Earth set outside of North America for a change, even if you're not writing what you know. I think the majority of fics on this site take place there, if they take place on Earth at all, that is.