The advantage is that I have my flight permit, my radio around my neck to warn me if I cut an airway as an ultralight so that I don't get fines and I can fly over the forest expanses.

They are gigantic. I really help the men on the ground and there is a big problem that really suits me: there is too much game and wild boars are wreaking havoc in the gardens. You have to get rid of a lot of them a lot! But I have to take care of my image and I avoid that journalists see me at work.

So far I can manage but it's harder than you think to live like a dragon. You have to earn a living and pay your taxes. That's the price of freedom. You don't realize it but it's terrible, it's never a given.

My infrared vision is really effective, the prey doesn't stand a chance.

MY FIRST PREY, I ALREADY SALIVATE, FOR ME IT'S LIKE A BAPTISM.

The men on the ground ask me if I have already spotted the "culprit" and after a few moments he is spotted.

I take my breath, excited and I aim for the silent approach angle, avoid casting a shadow on the ground and let myself fall on the boar. The men tell me that I am crazy without an adapted rifle but I told them that I have more confidence in my claws and heels.

The boar is turning over the frozen ground in search of acorns without suspecting that this is its last minute.

I grab him and stick my heels into his neck, killing him instantly. I catch it in my mouth and slit its throat.

The blood rushes between my jaws. The hot red blood spurting out of me is intoxicating and adrenalin-charged, it feels like mulled wine to warm me up. I feel the life from the wild pig between my teeth. The pressure is terrible and the bones of the head collapse.

I am caught up in a wild frenzy unknown to this day and I start lifting the wild boar (which should weigh about 300 kilos) by my mouth. I hold it 3 meters off the ground and literally tear the boar apart like a wild lioness.

I spread the guts with my claws and the animal is emptied almost instantly.

CRakc

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Crunch

Crumble

Crock

SPalsh

I have completely engulfed the boar and I have a hell of a face now, full of blood, hair and shreds of flesh!

MMM it was good but I should roast its skin, you don't taste the blood as much.

Grahh blood. I need blood. More blood! it's delicious, it's like fresh black pudding! spices, mushrooms mmm , let's try some fir shoots. MMhh, it's good, it's minty. and the resin gives good breath.

Then I see my colleagues arriving: Where is the boar?

Then they see the carnage!

PEOPLE

Me: It was good! I love pork.

I scraped the ground as if nothing had happened and then the mass of tripe went back to the forest.

I'm going to rinse my mouth (mouth) I have bad breath! HAHAHA

The colleagues looked at each other and said: he must have been hungry. Such a stomach is expensive. It has to eat too! As long as it's not us.

I only hunted what I could eat. arguing that I didn't see him, that he was hiding in a hole and not a word about my super vision. if one day men became my enemies, I will need everything to survive.

Here, this morning I entered by the door without any problem by bending down, but this time I don't go through anymore. I had to face the fact that I'm still growing. I can see my boss by just passing my head, but the rest is too small for me. I am bothered but I don't show it. I love this job in the great outdoors, I fly, hunt and eat and I get paid.

I have since learned the techniques of hunting to properly drain a beast and empty it of its blood. But for me I used to drink the blood, without losing a drop of it. I managed to do this discreetly but the naturalists wanted to film me in the wild and always ask me the same annoying questions.

After a flip out I bought some dragon or lizard latex masks and when they asked me the annoying question again, I got angry by forcing the guy to put the mask on his head and flap his wings like a hen. A reporter was there as well and asked me why I was angry. He asked me what it's like to be a dragon so when I was asked the same question 10,000 times, I freaked out. I made him do the chicken with a dragon's head on it.

HAHAHA It created a buzz: Don't piss off the dragon and games have even been invented on this theme.

That makes me laugh, but not the next article where they call me a bloodthirsty beast.

After 3 months of train, flight and freedom in beautiful landscapes, I became a legend and a tourist attraction: Flight of the dragon here and there. We saw the beast from there. The winged hunter devoured his prey.

Sylvie was happy and I often brought back beautiful pieces of meat that we roasted or barbecued.

I had a stock of skins that I sold and I kept some beautiful deer and roe deer skins for my decoration. With my salary and my appetite satisfied, things were going rather well and the repair work could be done.

I was then asked if I could inspect the power lines that ran through the forest.

Of course I accepted and equipped myself with my tools arranged in a suitable leather belt.

There was a storm and that scared me. I was always afraid of lightning.

I pass the pylons while flying and suddenly the lightning falls on one of the pylons breaking the high-voltage cable. With the trigger, it acts like a whip and I am crazy about the high voltage cable.

CATASTROPHE, I FALL ON THE HIGH VOLTAGE CABLE. I WILL BE ROASTED LIKE A CHICKEN!