there you stand, stick in hand. face to sleeping face with a dragon, who in retrospect will probably consider making the decision about which way to dispatch you the best part of his day. or her day. let's make it a she-dragon.
oh, she's going to enjoy it. almost definitely. almost. but wait. what if she won't rend you limb from limb? what if she decides not to char-broil you? what if she befriends you? you, the unlikely knight in dimly shining armor. are you unthreatening enough, charming enough, endearingly dimwitted enough to escape her wrath?
why don't you walk away? you stare at the sleeping dragon. you stare at the stick in your trembling hand. back at the beast. there is something kind about her, as she sleeps. maybe this will work out for you both. maybe she isn't even sleeping, just being coy and waiting for you to make your move? (are we still talking about a dragon?)
in the relatively fabled history of men waking dragons, there are many more failures than success stories. but most of them were in the slaying business. all you've got is a twig. (where am i going with this???)
take a step closer. gulp. poke. cringe.
(sorry for that one.)