Mathiew Diggle didn't go back, even to that section of woods for a long time (Not that for the first month he went anywhere anyway.). About four months passed before his itch to return got the better of him. This dragon Pshirrta terrified him and excited him all at once! He'd wanted adventure since as long as he could remember and this dragon had given him a taste, even if he'd almost lost his life in the process; but that was adventure wasn't it? So as soon as he'd finished his chores for the day he found himself in the western wood searching for the holes that had been in the cavern's ceiling. He found one, but not in the way he'd expected (Or wanted) to. He spotted one and moved over to it but slipped and began sliding toward the opening.
"No, no, no!" he shouted as he slipped over the muddy edge and hung onto a muddy out-sticking root. And so he sat there for a moment, hanging onto the root and not knowing what to do. He shouted for help, but he doubted anyone would hear him. No one came over here to the western wood.
But a voice, and a terrifyingly familiar voice at that, rumbled through him from below, "Why hello there, little thief!" her voice came, he could hear, closer. He attempted to clamber up onto the solid ground, but the muddy ground wasn't having it and he began to slip. In a moment his muddy hands grasped only air and he was falling. Mathiew caught a glimpse of the glittering ground below him as he fell and wondered where the dragon was (For he had expected to see the dragon's open maw below him). But he heard a surprised hiss and turned his head to look to only see a leathery wing materialize below him, and he landed onto it surprisingly gently and began sliding towards the mounds of sparkling gold.
"Though I fully expected you to return I hardly expected you to descend upon me from above!" her voice mocked him as he crashed and rolled into her pile of jewels and gold, finally coming to a stop after a couple of moments, and regaining his wits a few moments after that. He looked up at her resettling herself comfortably on her hoard, surrounding him with her long, huge form.
"Well," Mathiew replied as he sat up fully and made a little glance around for the knife he'd seen last time (which he didn't see), "I didn't plan on a lengthy visit to be honest. Though I suppose it's rude to just drop in."
This caused more earsplitting laughter to erupt from Pshirrta, as her tail swayed slightly back and forth, "At least you're an amusing snack!"
"Snack!" he said with feigned surprised (Though he was sure she could hear his heart, so hard did it pound!) , "But what about our rematch?"
This caused the dragon to smirk and lower her maw in front of him, "Rematch first, and when I win I'll have a snack."
Smiling himself, despite his fear, he said, "If you win."
"Oh, of course I'll win. I'm on to your tactics little one." she hissed with anticipation, "You first."
This time he was ready (for he'd looked into such things during his four month break) and recited,
"Little nancy etticoat,
In a white petticoat,
And a red nose.
The longer she stands,
The shorter she grows."
This riddle didn't take the dragon long, and she smiled, "Candle, little thief Mathiew. Really you should stop using fire riddles with me if you want to live." then she added,
"A hill-full, a hole-full
But you can not catch a bowl-full."
The young hobbit thought about this one for a while, fiddling with a couple of the dragon's golden coins, but it wasn't coming to him. He was scared now, for he had no ideas so he began listing to himself things that could not be caught in a bowl. 'Air, smoke, dust and mist. But maybe it is something that one would normally put in a bowl?' he questioned himself.
Pshirrta's tail flicked with annoyance and she growled, "Well? Have you an answer?" she was not a patient dragon it seemed (Not that there has ever been one).
"Mist?" he asked as he cringed, but the dragon sighed and moved her head higher up and looked down at him and said, "Correct."
To this he smiled widely and asked,
"What force and strength cannot get through
I with a gentle touch can do,
And many in the street would stand
Were I not a friend at hand."
"Hmm ..." the dragon rumbled as her tail absently tightened closer around where he sat, "Thisss ... makes no sense ... There is nothing that force and strength cannot get through ..." She puzzled with this one for two hours until finally Mathiew decided to speak.
"Give up?" he asked as as much of a non-confrontational manner as possible as he looked through the ceiling holes at the reddening sky. He should be getting home soon, not that his, host cared.
Looking at the little creature she nodded with a hiss, "What is the answer?"
"A key." Mathiew replied as he stood up, making the dragon hiss more.
"Beaten twice, by a youngling no less! What are you, little thief?" she demanded, not uncoiling herself for him to leave yet.
"I, " he stuttered, "I am a hobbit." There was a silence for a long moment, for she didn't move to release him and he didn't want to attempt to climb over her tail.
Lifting her tail to allow him passage she rumbled, "Return home, little hobbit, return to your mother. She's calling for you, you know." a grin so wide he saw all her giant, sharp gleaming teeth.
"She worries." he stated simply as he began to run up the stairs, but he heard the dragon yell something after him.
"I'd imagine, Mathiew Diggle."