“There’s nothing wrong with a dragon,” Ihlya said calmly, “It’s just that, well–”
She looked at Jira’s puppy-eyed face, pleading silently. “It’s only a baby,” Jira said, holding the green dragon protectively.
Ihlya sighed. “Well–look, we can’t possibly feed a dragon…”
Jira just looked at her, and repeated, “It’s only a baby. Look how cute it is!”
It is very cute, Ihlya thought as she stared into the dragon’s mesmerizing emerald eyes.
“Let’s keep it, fine,” she sighed. Maybe keeping a dragon was alright. Maybe they’d be fine.
Ihlya went off to the Mystics to get the dragon registered.
She returned to see their house a smoking, blackened wreck.
“Oops,” Jira said. “I forgot we had a wooden house.”