Travelling Companion

"Aw come on, don't look at me like that..." Dammit. Those enormous eyes were staring at me like I'd just ordered its execution. How could I just leave t there? I had no idea how to explain this to my wife. In my days of adventuring and travel, I'd brought home all kinds of strange things. It was my job, after all; people paid good gold for retrieving artifacts or rare ingredients, heirlooms, whatever they needed. I was their man. Enchanted swords, disembodied eyes that still blinked, satyr hair, even a haunted mirror had all come home with me at some point. My dear Evelina had made peace with it long ago, provided I got rid of my findings in a reasonable amount of time. But the dog-sized baby dragon currently trying to follow me home? I may have finally pushed my luck too far. It made a little warbly noise in its throat, almost like a muted cry. It peered up at me, seemingly seeing right into my soul with its massive green eyes. Its white body shimmered in the light, scattering beams of sun into the mouth of the cave I'd found it in. As far as I could tell, it had been abandoned. Remnants of two other shells, long dried out and disintegrating into the sandy floor, indicated its red and yellow siblings had hatched long ago. The white shell, however, had been still damp from its occupant. The poor thing was mewling pathetically, probably from loneliness, when I found it. Dragons were social creatures, after all. Oh, hell. I let out a long sigh. How could I leave it here, knowing its parents weren't coming back for it? I looked at it. It looked at me. I tried to shut out my traitorous compassion and be logical. It purred and gently pawed at my leg. I lost the battle. "Alright, fine," I growled, not truly angry at it but frustrated by my weakness. The little dragon gave a happy chirp and fluttered its winglets excitedly. A little puff of smoke shot out of its nose. I shouldered my bag and set off down the road. The dragon puttered ain't beside me, green eyes practically glowing with happiness. Tiny claws made a small clattering noise on the uneven cobblestones of the road. I reached down and stroked its wings, eliciting a delighted purr. Maybe Evelina would be swayed by this thing's cuteness. I hoped. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sleeping on the couch, I'd be single.

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Jane Doe

Aspiring writer, budding linguist.

Cape Town, South Africa