Keep moving, you think to yourself. Just keep moving.

As you cross Allegan, you look to your right and see a man running toward the dragon with a microphone. You’re not positive, but you think it’s radio host Michael Patrick Shiels, who broadcasts his statewide syndicated show nearby. Curiosity piqued, you find yourself slowing down to see what’s going to happen.

“Let’s talk tomorrow,” says the confident radio host to the dragon. “You can tell me your story.”

Your muscles tense, fully expecting the dragon to incinerate the man. But it doesn’t. It offers a growling sound, and a series of grunts, but makes no hostile action. You realize the creature is trying to communicate, but without a common language, it can’t get its point across. The dragon clearly respected the man’s attempt to reach out, however.

Suddenly, the dragon turns to face you yet again. Its scaly brow appears to furl, and its black eyes constrict into slits. Time to keep moving.

You continue to run south on Washington Square, trying to determine which building might be the safest to dart into. What seems the best option? Crepes? Comics?

At the end of the block, on Kalamazoo Street, you see an older woman in glasses running with a stack of books and other items precariously balanced in her arms. “I have answers!” she shouts to anyone who might listen, but the remaining people on the block are busy panicking and pounding on the doors of establishments and cars, ignoring her completely. 

You sense the dragon may be stalking you again, but are scared to turn back to know for sure. It seems risky to try finding safety in an area restaurant, especially observing how many establishments have locked their doors, and you realize you have only two options.

Do you:

Find out what the woman knows, if you can.

Or:

Turn to face the dragon directly, as it seems to respect direct engagement.