Sneak, sneak, sneak.
Crouch.
Sneak.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle…
POUNCE!
Splat.
Jazz grinned and resisted the urge to laugh out loud at his incredibly confused hatchling who lay stock-still in the remains of a burst energel fruit. The gel-filled, slightly irregular orbs had long been favourite playthings for the little dragon – they were hard enough to roll away with some speed when poked or pushed (and you never knew in what direction!), soft enough to have a slight bounce and just the right size to wrestle with – but up until now he'd never managed to make one burst.
The bitlet was growing.
It took a few moments for the hatchling to get over the shock of his toy suddenly exploding but then he unfroze, got up and sniffed suspiciously at the pinkish mess on the ground, not yet realising that he, too, was covered in it. Then he looked up at his sire with an inquisitive chirp.
"It's okay, Blue, the gel's not dangerous," Jazz said, bending down to give the hatchling an affectionate nudge with his snout. "You can even eat it - it's quite good." He extended his tongue and lapped up some of the gel and the little one immediately copied his action, first licking cautiously and then diving into the mess with gusto.
It didn't take long until all the gel was either eaten or splattered across the ground and the little dragon started looking around for something else to play with. Spotting another energel fruit he made a dash for it, attacking with all the ferocity his tiny frame could manage. This fruit proved to be less ripe than the previous one though and simply rolled over, taking the enthusiastic hatchling with it.
Jazz watched, still grinning, as the little dragon kept attacking the obstinate fruit again and again until it finally cracked open enough for some of the viscous fluid to leak out. There was a loud squeal of delight and after some more tearing with teeth and claws the shell had opened up enough that the hatchling could stick his head through it.
Which was how he discovered the disadvantage of having backwards-pointing horns.
Once more Jazz had to fight back the urge to laugh as the enthusiastic chirps from inside the cracked fruit turned indignant as the little dragon found himself trapped and started trying to wiggle himself free. If the chirps got truly distressed Jazz would intercede but as long as Bluestreak didn't panic this was as good an opportunity as any for the hatchling to learn a) to be careful about sticking his head into narrow openings, and b) how to get out if he did.
It took quite a bit of wiggling, scratching, kicking and rolling around but in the end the hatchling came out victorious. As soon as he was free he backed away from the fruit, hissed at it and flared his wings in a threat display that utterly failed to look anything but adorable. When the fruit didn't move, obviously defeated, the little dragon turned his back to it and strutted off towards his sire, plating puffed out and head held high in pride.
"Well, it looks like my little bitlet has vanquished his prey," Jazz said, humour in his voice but also praise and approval as he lowered his head to nuzzle the gel-covered hatchling. "How 'bout celebrating that with a trip to the river, before that gel gets into all of your seams and sets there?"
The hatchling didn't understand most of the words yet but soaked in the warm affection behind them, then chirped happily at the mentioning of the river. Swimming was fun and there were lots of tiny things there that just begged to be chased. Jumping up and down a few times he then set off in a bouncing trot along the path towards the river, energel fruits already forgotten in favour of the next adventure.
With another indulgent smile at his exuberant offspring Jazz rose to his feet and followed.