A/N: So sorry, school has been complete and utter hell. Just two weeks to summer, and I got my first job internship at an aquarium :D! -Enderkit
Steve pushed aside the door of his house, feeling drained. His sprint all the way down the road practically to his front door had left him exhausted, although, he suspected with trepidation, not as much as he should have been. The hatchling followed him as closely as a tamed wolf, never leaving his side and with a skip in its step.
"You're awfully chipper," Steve grumbled. "How did you get out anyway?"
The hatchling responded with a series of squeaks and noises similar to a cat crossed with a bat, but none of them made any sense to the miner.
"Guess I'll just have to see for myself," Steve said, and adjusted the door so that it wasn't in his way-
Wait.
Steve stopped and looked at the door as his tired brain finally recovered enough to restore functions pertaining to situational awareness. It was open? Already?
He glanced back at the hatchling, which sat waiting for him to proceed with entering the house.
"Did you open this?" he asked.
The hatchling squeaked and wagged its tail once.
"Hm…" Steve stared at the door for a little longer, and then walked inside. Confusion took hold at the sight of the door set in stone, obsidian block firmly on the ground in front of it, still shut tight. "What the-… how the Nether-…"
The hatchling romped up to the wall beside the door and squeaked, sniffing at the small hole it had dug out of the tiny dirt section in the stone. It looked proud of itself.
Steve stepped over and bent down on his knees to examine the tunnel. It was a perfect one-block-high one-block-wide hole that led down into the dirt patch and back up into the stone room. The tiny dirt cubes floating in the open space magnetized to the miner, and were sucked into his inventory. Removing them, he counted them. Sure enough, they equaled in number the space the hole left.
"You dug this out, didn't you?" Steve said to the hatchling, which stared back at him with the closest he guessed an Ender Dragon could get to a smile on its face. "You can't just dig holes in the wall. This is my house, don't damage it."
The hatchling seemed to know that its parent wasn't particularly pleased with what it had done. Its tail drooped a little, it lowered its head and its wings sagged in a depressed posture.
Steve sighed and, unsure of what else to do, patted the hatchling gently on the head. It seemed to perk up, then, rubbing its tiny horns into his palm and making a soft purr-like noise. In secret, he was proud of the little dragon and a little awed at its intelligence – just a day after its hatching, it had outwitted a door that was, for all intents and purposes, locked.
A grumbling noise could be heard in the room, quiet yet insistent.
Steve turned red. Whoops, I guess I never ate with all that craziness from this morning, he thought sheepishly. Might as well put my latest purchases to good use.
He shifted the supply bag from his inventory to his hand, hefting the heavy satchel onto the kitchen table. The hatchling watched with wide eyes, having never witnessed such a phenomenon. To the dragon, it had appeared as though the human had reached into an invisible pocket and pulled a disproportionately large bag from thin air.
Steve unzipped the flap, and organized his loot into various chests. He removed the piles of raw pork and beef, hauling most of it to his ice-set chest for uncooked foods. This had the hatchling's complete attention, its purple eyes following the meat like an ocelot that had just spotted a particularly fat fish.
Placing the meat in the homemade freezer, Steve selected two pieces of steak and closed the lid, locking it tight. Picking up some potatoes and coal on the way, he set the meat on one of his furnace tops, the potatoes on the other, and gently tossed the coal into the fuel burners. In minutes, the aromas of delicious foods were wafting through the air, tempting the miner's senses.
When he heard the sizzling and popping of the cooked fat, he gauged that the meat was done. A square of napkin paper in hand, he gently scooped the hot meat onto a wooden plate with the baked potatoes. He carried the plate to the table, pulled out his favorite chair, and sat down to eat.
A whimper temporarily drew his gaze from his meal. The hatchling sat by his feet, staring up at him with pleading eyes. When it gained its parent's attention, the hatchling stood on all fours and wagged its tail a little, hoping to garner sympathy.
Steve looked momentarily confused before noticing that the dragon chick's eyes flicked occasionally to the steaming meat that sat on his plate.
It whined, and pawed at his leg.
Steve nearly slapped himself. Of course. The hatchling was hungry, too.
But what do they eat? He honestly had no clue, although he was sure he could guess. They didn't have teeth and claws for nothing. He HAD placed a second piece of steak to cook…
Now that he thought about it, why had he done that? One steak, especially with potatoes, was plenty for a crafter to get by on. He hadn't done it consciously – he had just been running on autopilot, so to speak. Then again, never before had mindlessly preparing his dinner led to the production of a food surplus. Was that strange instinct messing with him again?
Before he could even think of how to proceed, however, the sight of a sleek black shape on the table returned him to the present. The dragon chick was attempting to pilfer his steak, straight from the plate.
"Hey! No! That one's mine!" Steve chased after the hatchling, which proceeded to bolt from the table and race around the kitchen, steak clamped in its tiny jaws.
The scene would have been rather humorous to the miner had the subject of torment not been the child of a deceased Ender Dragon. And nobody. NOBODY. Takes. His. Food.
As a newborn, the dragon child tired quickly of the running. Steve seized the opportunity and leapt across the table. Snatching the steak in his hands, the two began to play tug-of-war over the meat.
The hatchling made a noise that sounded like a cross between a dog growling and a cat. "Mrrrreeeurrr!" it said, the sound muffled as it tried to speak around the meat in its jaws.
"Notch dammit, let go!" Steve growled.
The hatchling released the meat as if on command, and flew back a few blocks. It landed on its haunches, and looked back at its parent with sadness. Its tiny stomach growled, upset at the loss of its meal. The chick lowered its head, and sniffed sadly.
Steve froze. He hadn't meant to upset the poor thing. Hearing the sound of its own hunger struck a chord of pity. He knew what it was like to live in mines for days on end, not knowing when you'd get the chance to see your next meal – needless to say, it was one of his less pleasurable experiences.
He looked down at the steak, and sighed. "Here, just take it. I guess I'll just get the other one," he grumbled, offering the meat back to the hatchling.
The hatchling dropped all sadness right then and there. It gave an excited yip and accepted the steak, chomping into it eagerly.
~/~
I knew it!
I knew it!
My parent does care about me!
My parent loves me!
MY PARENT LOVES ME!
A/N: What do you think is going to happen next? Tell me what you suspect is coming up. I can't wait to see your reactions to how the next chapter starts - I can almost guarantee that what you think will happen is completely wrong xD. Trolololol.
-Enderkit