I’m Emily and I’m nine years old. I guess I’m not like all nine-year olds for the simple reason that I have an unusual pet. I’ll have to tell you a bit of my back story cuz well you’ll understand…
My dad is an anthropologist. That’s a big scientific word for someone who plays in the dirt all the time. Sometimes mom and I get to go to other places when my dad “digs.” Recently we went on a dig that I really liked. We found artifacts “really old things” of knights and castles and stuff. Daddy found this really old sword. Mom found an unusual rock that she brought home. We both wondered what mom was going to do with it. “It will be the perfect coffee table pedestal for the living room.” I am sure when we first got it home that there were no cracks but everyday, for several weeks, I noticed a crack that seemed to get bigger.
“How did the coffee table fall?” My mom yelled as we opened the front door.
Just then I heard a tiny squeal from the corner by the heater vent. There curled up in a ball was a little creature with a tiny frown.
“Don’t be afraid,” I said as I scooped the bundle up and charged upstairs to my room. I couldn’t hide him for long because once he was not afraid he made an unusual roaring sound.
I think he was hungry. My daddy was pretty sure that this little creature was a Draconis Occidentalis better known as a dragon.
“We have to return him,” my mother insisted.
“Where exactly?” Daddy had that “I would love to study this find” look on his face.
“Mom please can’t we keep it?” I already had a soft spot for this little creature who was alone in the world.
…And that’s how the story begins. It won’t end there. For now, I have to figure out what it… he… what Drag, my dragon, likes to eat.