Little Red Wing

There was once a young dragon who lived long ago. Now dragons, you see, age different than humans. When he’d been here for 10 years he was still just a babe. Though when he was 20, he was more than full grown. By the time that happened though, our story was done.

So I’m here to tell of the time in between, when Little Red Wing was almost thirteen.

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Red was excited to be going home. He'd just made it to the Fire Falls for his junior mission. All little dragons do it when they first learn how to fly. He's been here at the falls for just over a week, and now it's time to make the trip back. He's out all alone, as all dragons are.

Most of all, he's excited to see Mama. She'll be so proud of him, he's sure. Filled with determination and anticipation to see his mother, Little Red Wing sets off.

His journey is only a few days, but he has to make more stops than a big dragon would. At the first stop he watches a kind old woman. She feeds the birds and squirrels and sets out a pie. She looks nice, he thinks to himself.

But Mama always told him not to trust the humans, so he dares not approach.

Instead, he stays nearby as he rests his wings, for the animals seem to trust her, so these woods are safe.

When he feels ready, he sets out again, he flies as far as he can before stopping to sleep. When the sun starts to settle, he finds a nice tree.

Looking down from the thick canopy, he spots a young man, setting a tent. The man has food, and Red is hungry, he thinks it wouldn't hurt him to ask.

But Mama always told him not to trust the humans, so he dares not approach.

Instead, he looks down and studies the man. He watches him cook. He watches his hands. It's fascinating, the little dragon thinks, the manliness of things, the drops of his ink.

Red settles down, and prepares for his dreams. And when they show up, they're full of black streams. Pools of dark liquid, fallen on pale parchment. They make shapes he doesn't know, it's not really his department.

They catch his eye, and he remembers them come morning. They're in his mind as he flies, his little wings supporting.

When he touches ground once more, he sees no human this time. He enjoys the peace, and rests with the birds. They cuddle him close, enjoying his warmth.

He stays a little extra, soaking it in, but by midday, it's off once again. He soars through the air, loving the sun. When he sees a large group, on the land down below, he can't help but get closer, wanting to know.

As he lands on a wide branch, he sees many tents, and many men. The men are all strong, and shiny, and tall. Little Red Wing tilts his little red head, the curiosity makes him his bed.

The men have lots of sticks. Shiny sticks, spiky sticks, sticks tied with string. Some have branches that bend, like grass in the spring.

Many men are yelling, some even give a curse and a shout. He can't tell what they say, as the sound is too much and blocks the others out.

Though one man is louder than the rest, he's tall and broad and looks sorta mean. His head and his knees have a bright golden sheen.

“I want you all out of here with riches by sundown tomorrow! Am I clear? This is ridiculous. You've been stationed in the forest for a month and I don't have land or gold!”

“Sire, we only aim to do this correctly! We don't want to rush it, people could get hurt!”

“People could get hurt!” The king mocks in a high pitched voice. “Do you really think I care?! You're spending MY money to do absolutely nothing!”