Little Bundle of Joy

The little dragon, Mogar, is awoken from his nap by the cries of a very special newborn child. A bief, wholesome, and adorable account of the birth of my favorite OC, Katriga. :3

Curled on a little cushion, on a little stool, making little snores, was a little dragon, dreaming of days not yet come. This was his favorite spot in the house, the den, where he could watch over the family as they read, snacked, and played. Though he was without company, at the moment, as he rest after a long day of protecting the family. The crackling fire always put him to sleep.

The dreaming dragon suddenly awoke, head perking up. A sound caught his ear. A cry. It was a piercing, squealing thing. He had heard it before, many times, watching over this family. Usually after one of the women became very swollen, for a time. 

The little dragon flew through the warm, musty halls, following the curious noise. It was coming from the matrons’ bedchamber, it seemed. The noise had settled down. The door was open a crack, the inner orange glow peeking through from within. The little dragon swooped onto the door’s handle, latching on to his perch, and the door swung open gently. 

Inside, the little dragon saw the family of the house, gathered about the bed. Four small children, one boy and three girls, all soft faces, and messy ginger curls, surrounded one of the family’s matrons as she lay on the bed, her partner sat beside her. The children were all leaned in, curiously, while the matrons were smiling down at a small bundle in the laying matron’s arms.

The door made a creak, as the little dragon had swung in on it, drawing the family’s attention to him.

“Ah! There you are. Come here, Mogar. It’s time for you to meet someone very special.” said the laying Matron, as she looked back at the bundle she held. 

Mogar made a quizzical sound. What was so transfixing of this bundle? He would have to investigate. The little dragon leapt from his perch, gliding to the bed, and scurried across the sheets, to climb atop the matron’s shoulder. Someone special? If that were so, then why so small, and swaddled in cloth?

As Mogar found his place, to inspect the bundle, he was met with a very tiny face. It was fresh, and squishy looking, and had a fresh smell to it. And it made small, confused sounds, like it knew not where it was. Special? It could hardly function! Very confusing. It’s eyes opened further, as it seemed to notice the little dragon. Now this was curious. The tiny face possessed vibrant red eyes. The color of blood. And its head bore a small tuft of hair, the very same color. The little dragon required a closer look, crawling onto the bundle itself, intently investigating the little red thing.

“Mogar, this… is Katriga. She is very special, and you need to take care of her, ok?”

Katriga. Special. Hmmm. Mogar would have to keep a close eye, then, to see for himself when this “specialness” appeared. He peered ever closer to the squishy face, taking curious sniffs.

The little dragon suddenly felt a firm grip on his snout. He squealed in surprise, attempting to jerk away, but the effort was in vain. He thrashed, but whatever had him was immensely strong. He heard a giggling sound. It was small, and squeaky. He opened his eyes. It was the bundle! It had sprouted an arm, and now would not let go of his snout. It seemed very entertained by this, as did the family. Mogar slumped, embarrassed. He then found himself being pulled towards the tiny face, and the arm wrapped around his neck, holding him down, and drawing more laughs from the surrounding family. This was not how mighty dragons were to be treated. And yet, there was nothing he could do about it.

***

“Are you ready, Mogar?”

The little dragon did not understand the question. He never had, though she had asked him many times, over the years. A squeak, or small nudge, or similar, seemed a satisfactory answer though, in past experience, so he simply pushed his head against the young woman’s cheek. He and Katriga stood at the docks, him perched on her shoulder, to board a ship for far off lands, according to Katriga’s excited ramblings for the past year. She smelled nervous.

The young woman sighed, appearing to feel better with her inscrutable question answered. She turned back, to see her family gathered behind them, having come to see them off. Everyone had water in their eyes, though Mogar was unsure why. They would be back within the next century, to be sure.

Mogar had to suddenly hold tight as Katriga rushed over to the others, who surrounded her in embrace. They exchanged emotional words, of both encouragement and caution. Many lips were placed upon the young woman’s face, and many scritches were given to Mogar, which he allowed.

It was a few moments before the cluster separated, but the matrons pushed Katriga along, telling her to get going before the ship left. Why would it leave? They weren’t on it, yet!

The young woman rushed off to the ship, leaping onto its deck, nearly jostling mogar from her shoulder. They both looked back over the railing at the family, as the ship set off. Katriga waved and shouted to them the whole way, until she could not see them anymore. Then turning away with small wet streaks down her face. The pair of dragon and girl then, with not left to do, set to find their quarters for the journey. And wait as the winds took them away.