I sit against the stone wall in a full-fledged pout. I got to admit, I didn't expect to become dragon fodder. Strangely enough, it's been a couple of hours, and the little guy still hasn't thought of eating anything-or anyone-yet. He's sitting next to me while staring with his adorable baby eyes. Every so often, he'll sniff me as if investigating. I wonder if I smell tasty to him. The little guy eventually plops down for a nap right by me. I groan.
Where is the part where the villain takes interest in the woman of the story? Am I that weird looking to the Horned King that I'm set to be nothing more than his pet's third course? Or maybe I've just become that much of an annoyance. I know that this guy thinks I broke his stupid wall, but…
"OW." The baby gwythaint's teeth clamped onto my arm. Though his bite was gentle and inquisitive, his teeth were still sharp. I give a quick smack to the baby's snout. "No," I say assertively. "That's bad. Bad boy." He looks at me for a moment before laying his head on my arm. I pat his head and he gives a small puff of smoke from his nostrils.
"Being cute doesn't give you the right to eat me, mister."
He purrs and closes his eyes as I keep petting him. I try to think of different ways to buy time so that I don't get Purina Dragon Chow (trademark). A new hope arrives in the form of a giant rat coming out from a hole in the wall leading to the adjacent cell. It wiggles its whiskers and searches around for any food. The baby gwythaint's head poked up and begins to assume an attack position which I can only compare to a cat getting ready to pounce on a toy. He hops up and pounces on the rat before the poor thing could escape. I grimace and look away as he rips and tears through the meat. Though I am grateful that I am no longer his interest in terms of a meal.
I hear him prance up to me. I look at him. Grotesquely, yet adorably, he holds the remainder of the rat in his mouth. There's still some meat left on it. "Don't you wanna finish that, sweetie?" I say as nicely as I can. I just don't want to be looking at a freshly dead rat carcass. He answers by gently setting the dead rat down in front of me.
"Oh," I say. "Um…I'm allergic to rodent. So, more for you!" I give a forced chuckle. He tilts his head. I groan and pick up the thing by its tail. I look at the baby. He wags his tail to and fro while keeping his eyes on me as if he's happy I would be sharing a meal with him. I turn around and hold the carcass close to my mouth. I pretend to eat it and enjoy it.
"Mm mm mm! They don't make it like this at home! Om nom nom!" I'm so fully engrossed in my charade that I don't notice the baby right beside me watching me fake eat this rat. I stop and look at him with shame. "Uh, bon appetizer?"
The baby pouts and stomps his foot the way an angry bunny would. He races around the room and squeaks angrily at the air before he starts to do something with his stomach. He makes movements similar to a cat about to cough up a hairball. A glow forms from the inside of his throat…I guess it's death by fire coming from a baby dragon throwing a temper tantrum. I brace for scalding impact by assuming the face-down fetal position. But then all I hear is a single cough. I peek through my arms. A little cloud of smoke trailed from the baby's mouth. Confusion fills his face. I giggle and sit up. "Still too little to let out any fire, huh?" The baby huffs and stomps his leg again. I pat the little guy's head. "Hey, you looked pretty ferocious to me." I stare at the smoke cloud slowly dissipating in the air. I hum. "You don't have a name yet, do you?" His head perked up as if a name had been something he asked for as a Christmas present. I think for a moment. "How about…Smokey?" His tongue hangs out of his wide smile, and he nods as he jumps around the room. Smokey nudges his head against my arm, prompting me to pet him.
Alright. So, I made buddy-buddy with my new dragon boy. That just leaves the threat of starvation to deal with. I turn to Smokey. "Any chance you know of a way out of here, bud?"
Smokey nods and trots over to the door. He holds up his tail and inserts it through the bars of the door before craning it into the lock. In a few moments, I hear a click. The door creaks open. "Good boy," I say and give him the good boy pats.
The Horned King just stares at us from his throne as I hold Smokey in my arms as if I'm holding a cat. Smokey chews on a mutton that we sneaked from a kitchen we passed by before ending up in the throne room.
"So…I'm friends with your dragon now. Are we cool?" I ask.
He keeps looking at us before a grin slowly develops on his face. He leans toward us with the tips of his fingers held together as he looks at me. "Are you, by any chance, looking for work?"
Author's Note: Reviews are welcomed for this attempt of a story.
