What do you call a group of dragons? A pride? A shrewdness, as in "a shrewdness of apes"? There's a a battery of barracudas, a parliament of owls, an ostentation of peacocks, a quiver of cobras, a zeal of zebras and — possibly my favourite — an exaltation of larks.
Perhaps I will call these the latest fancy of my eight-year-old, sitting for hours at the back desk with markers and lined paper, realizing visions in his head. "I draw them to calm down," he told me. A calm of dragons? A meditation of dragons? An obsession of dragons? A magnet of dragons, who can stick by themselves to the fridge door now that we've run out of actual magnets? They all work.