The meadow stretched wide and serene under the morning light, a rare slice of calm after all they had endured. Catty was starting to think they might actually breathe easily for once—until she discovered that the dragon was missing.

"Wait…" Her voice cut sharply through the quiet. "Where's the dragon?"

Serafima turned around slowly, her expression as steady as ever.

"He was right here."

"Well, he's not now!" Catty snapped, her voice rising. Her eyes darted frantically across the meadow, from the soft swaying grass to the distant treeline.

"You saw him, didn't you? He was here! He was... he's..." Her words stumbled over. The dragon, her dragon, was gone.

"Catty," Serafima began, her voice as calm as though they were discussing tea, "he can't have gone far. He's small. And loud. Dragons are not known for subtlety."

"This isn't time for a lecture!" Catty was already scanning the ground, crouching low to check for any sign of movement or prints. "What if he's fallen into something... or gotten himself stuck... or..."

"Set something on fire?" Serafima offered, folding her arms as she surveyed the field.

Catty glared up at her, her hands digging into the grass. "You're not taking this seriously!"

"I am," Serafima replied, her tone maddeningly calm. "I'm also pointing out that panic will not help us find him."

Catty bit back a retort, her focus snapping to a faint trail on the grass. Small claw marks on the ground led a winding path further across the meadow.

"Look!" She sprang to her feet, pointing, "he ran through here!"

Serafima's eyes followed the trail, and she opened her mouth to answer, but without waiting, Catty was already charging on the trail, her heart thudding in her chest. Serafima followed slowly, her calm both infuriating and oddly reassuring.

The sanctuary, so safe and peaceful a moment ago, now seemed too big and unknown for a tiny dragon with too much curiosity to get hopelessly lost.

As they followed the trail, Catty simmered. The claw marks meandered across the meadow in a way that suggested the dragon hadn't been in any particular hurry. This only made Catty more agitated.

"What was he thinking? He can't even walk straight half the time, let alone..."

Her words died mid-sentence as a flurry of movement caught her eye. Ahead of them, something pink and distinctly out of place wobbled into view. It fluttered up unevenly, wings flapping with all the grace of a book falling off a shelf.

Catty froze, her mouth falling open, "He's flying."

"Flying is a generous term," Serafima shielded her eyes with one hand as she squinted at the sky. "It's more like... creative plummeting."

The dragon, oblivious to their observations, gave a triumphant screech as he teetered sideways, his tiny wings beating furiously to keep him aloft. He tilted one way, then the other, before performing what could only be described as a mid-air somersault—completely unintentional, of course.

"He's crashing!" Catty shouted, already rushing forward as though she could catch him.

"Unlikely," Serafima said, her voice infuriatingly calm. "Dragons are remarkably resilient. Though I wouldn't stand directly underneath him if I were you."

Sure enough, the dragon's erratic movements brought him into a precarious dive, his tail whipping around like an uncooperative rudder. He plummeted rapidly and disappeared into a bush with a dramatic rustling of leaves.

Catty sprinted forward.

"Kiddy!" she called, skidding to a halt as she reached the bush. She shoved branches aside in dismay, expecting to find a torn body.

Instead, she found the dragon clinging to a branch, covered in leaves and looking far too pleased with himself. He blinked at her with wide, guileless eyes as though waiting for applause.

"You... little disaster," Catty muttered, reaching in to scoop him up. He chirped happily, entirely unaware of the trouble he'd just caused.

Behind her, Serafima approached, "I told you he'd be fine."

Catty shot her a glare but said nothing. The dragon squirmed in her arms with excitement, his wings still twitching as if preparing for another attempt. Catty tightened her grip.

"Not a chance," the girl said. "You're grounded."

Serafima crouched to examine him, brushing a leaf from his scales. "He's bold, I'll give him that. But boldness without knack is a recipe for disaster."

"What do we do now?" Catty sighed, calming down little by little.

"Now," Serafima said, "we teach him how to fly properly. Before he turns upside down the entire sanctuary."

The dragon, firmly cradled in Catty's arms and still wriggling with unspent energy, let out a defiant chirp. Catty rolled her eyes but couldn't entirely suppress the faint tug of a smile. He might be a tiny, pink menace, but he was her tiny, pink menace.

Serafima led the way back to the house, her pace steady and unhurried, as though the dragon's escapades had been a mere hiccup in their day. Catty trailed behind, occasionally adjusting her grip as the dragon fidgeted, his wings twitching like a child eager to try out a forbidden toy again.

"You'd think he'd be tired after all that," the girl said, glancing down at him. "But no, he's ready for round two."

Serafima turned, her gaze sweeping over the dragon with the precision of a scholar cataloging every movement.

"His energy is a good sign," she said, "but he needs proper training."

"Training?" Catty snorted. "He can barely stay upright without knocking something over."

"Precisely," Serafima replied. "That's why we're here. Rutger designed this sanctuary not just as a refuge but as a place where he could grow—safely and purposefully. This isn't a holiday, Catty. It's a classroom."

Catty sighed, letting her gaze wander across the meadow. The sanctuary was undeniably beautiful, with its gentle slopes covered emerald grass and wildflowers. However, the word "classroom" made her stomach tighten. She hadn't exactly signed up to be a teacher—or a student, for that matter.

Serafima paused, her tone softening just slightly.

"You've seen what he's capable of, even in his clumsy state," the woman continued. "Imagine what he could do with focus and guidance."

Catty shifted the dragon in her arms, his tiny claws brushing against her sleeve.

"I guess," the girl said, though her voice lacked conviction. "I just… don't want to mess him up."

"You won't," Serafima said, tone firm, "but you must take this seriously. Dragons are powerful, and that power needs to be shaped before it becomes a danger—to himself and us."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"And if I can't?" Catty hesitated, her fingers brushing over the dragon's scales.

"That's what I'm here for!" Serafima said as though the matter had already been decided.

"What's for?" Catty frowned, her curiosity piqued.

“Preparation,” Serafima replied. "As old Mrs. Benna used to say, always know your tools."

"Mrs. Benna?.." Catty froze. "Do you know her?"

Serafima stilled for only the briefest moment before she opened the door. Her expression remained as composed as ever. The dragon finally broke free from the girl's hands and ran through the open door into the house.

"Just an old saying," Serafima said, "I heard long ago."

The girl nodded. For now, here was a tiny dragon needing proper guidance, and Catty wasn't entirely sure she was up to the task. So, Seraphima devoted the following days to raising the dragon.

On a beautiful morning that didn't foreshadow any troubles, the dragon perched on the table, his tail twitching like a spring wound too tight. Catty stood a few steps away, holding a bucket of water. Serafima stood at the head of the room, her hands clasped behind her back as she studied the fidgeting creature.

"The first step," she began, calm but firm, "is teaching restraint. Dragons are naturally impulsive, but their power must be tempered with discipline."

Catty glanced skeptically between the dragon and the bucket. "Restraint? You've seen him, right? He doesn't even know what that word means."

"He will," Serafima replied smoothly, stepping closer to the dragon. "Watch."

She produced a small candle and placed it carefully on the table before the dragon. His wings twitched, and his nostrils flared as he leaned forward, curiosity radiating from every inch of his tiny frame.

"Now," Serafima said, her tone low and measured, "we're going to focus his fire. Controlled bursts, no more, no less. This will teach him precision."

Catty opened her mouth to object but thought better of it. Instead, she watched as Serafima gestured to the candle.

"Light the candle," Serafima instructed the dragon. "Just a small flame."

The dragon tilted his head, clearly uncertain, before inhaling sharply and releasing a gout of fire that engulfed the candle, the table, and a fair portion of the surroundings. Catty yelped, sloshing water over her feet as she scrambled to douse the flames.

Serafima didn't flinch. She calmly extinguished the remaining fire with a snap of her fingers and turned back to the dragon, who looked exceedingly pleased with himself.

"A bit much," Serafima said evenly, brushing a speck of ash from her sleeve. "Let's try again."

"Do you really think he's going to get this?" Dripping and increasingly exasperated, Catty set the bucket down with a thud. "He's more likely to burn the whole house down!"

Serafima arched an eyebrow. "That's why we're starting small."

The next attempt was marginally more successful. The dragon managed a short, concentrated burst of flame that missed the candle entirely but only scorched a nearby chair. Catty groaned, but there was a hint of reluctant pride in her voice when she muttered, "At least he didn't set the curtains on fire."

By the time the dragon produced a flame that gently lit the candle without igniting anything else, Catty was leaning against the wall, thoroughly drenched from repeated firefighting efforts.

"He did it," the girl said, a spark of genuine excitement in her voice. "He actually did it!"

"Small victories," Serafima nodded, a faint smile touching her lips, "but they will bring success."

The dragon, oblivious to the significance of his achievement, flopped onto his side with a triumphant chirp.

After he learned to control his fire breath, the following training had to strengthen the bond: energy sharing and trust exercises.

The room was quiet, the air charged with anticipation. The dragon sat between them on a soft cushion, and his head cocked to the side as if trying to understand what all the fuss was about. Catty fiddled nervously with the bracelet on her wrist, its glimmer catching the light.

Serafima changed into her home clothes and wore a lounge top and crop flare pants. The woman knelt across from Catty, her posture relaxed yet attentive.

"Focus," Serafima instructed, her voice low and steady. "The bracelet connects your energy to his. Use it to guide him—calm him."

Catty bit her lip, her fingers brushing the smooth surface of the bracelet.

"And how exactly do I do that?"

"Let your thoughts settle. Dragons are sensitive to intent. If you're anxious, he'll feel it."

"Right," Catty muttered. "Calm thoughts. No pressure or anything."

Serafima gave her a pointed look but said nothing. The dragon, for his part, seemed content, his wings folded neatly against his sides as his bright eyes flicked between them with curiosity.

Taking a deep breath, Catty closed her eyes and focused on the warmth radiating from the bracelet. She pictured it as a thread stretching out from her to the dragon. The connection felt faint at first, like a distant hum, but it grew stronger and clearer as she concentrated.

The dragon was purring softly, and the girl opened her eyes to see him tilting his head, sensing the change. A warmth spread through Catty's chest, soft and glowing, and she realized—it was him. The dragon's energy intertwined with hers like the echo of a heartbeat. The girl felt his unshakable trust in her, all mingling with her own emotions—she was one whole with him, sharing the same breath, the same rhythm, as though they were two ends of the same thread.

"Good," Serafima said, her tone softer now. "You're reaching him. Keep going."

Catty exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the bracelet. She focused on sending energy toward the dragon, and the tiny creature blinked and stretched, responding to her efforts.

The dragon stretched his neck toward Catty's hand, brushing his snout against her fingers, and a quiet trill escaped him. It was soft, uncertain, but filled with something the girl couldn't quite name—something that felt like gratitude.

"You're doing well," Serafima's voice became delicate. She touched the girl's knee. "You've always had a gift for this…"

Catty raised her head. The woman's expression shifted instantly, her composure snapping back into place.

"Your instincts," she said. "They're strong, but you'll need practice to refine them."

Serafima stood up, her gaze fixed on the dragon, now curled contentedly on the cushion.

"He trusts you more now. That's progress. We'll build on it."

Reaching out, Catty brushed a hand gently over the pink scales. The dragon chirped again, nuzzling into her hand, and despite her lingering doubts about the future, Catty smiled, "And what should I name you?"

"Arrrrrye!" the dragon growled.

"R.I.?" the girl tried to repeat. The dragon sniffed in response.

"A weird name! Maybe you will be..."

"Arrrrrye!" the dragon interrupted her insistently.

"Okay, got it! From now on, I call you R.I."

Then, they studied, as Serafima said, developing abilities and special powers, understanding boundaries between play and danger, strengthening emotional control, and mastering flight coordination. The dragon practiced aiming bursts of flame precisely, responding to mental commands, and navigating obstacle courses that tested his agility. They also introduced problem-solving challenges, where the dragon had to find hidden objects or maneuver through complex paths, encouraging his intelligence and resourcefulness.

Catty and the dragon deepened their telepathic and emotional connection. The girl learned to sense his thoughts and emotions clearly, while the dragon responded to her intentions with increasing precision. This bond became their most powerful tool, allowing them to communicate seamlessly, even at a distance.

These days were difficult but so interesting! As the dragon matured, Serafima allowed him independent exploration within the sanctuary. These excursions helped him gain confidence and learn to manage himself without constant oversight. Catty anxiously watched from afar, but she gradually realized that the dragon's independence was essential for its growth.

The dragon grew rapidly. At first, he was the size of a kitten, then like a sheep, and in a couple of weeks, he became like a calf. Then, the dragon began to slow down its growth, and after a month, he finally reached the size of a killer whale.

And the time came when Seraphima said the dragon was ready to fly with the girl riding on him.

The dragon stood proudly at the edge of the clearing, his shimmering pink scales gleaming in the sunlight. He stretched his wings wide, their span casting a shadow over the soft grass, and gave a low rumble that sounded almost like a purr. He was ready, or at least, he thought he was.

Catty, on the other hand, was not so sure.

"You're certain about this?" the girl asked, glancing nervously at Serafima. "I mean, he's big but big enough to carry me? Without, you know… dropping me?"

Serafima, dressed in her usual calmness, gave a small nod. "He's ready. And so are you."

"Easy for you to say," Catty snorted, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "You're not the one about to be in the air."

"That's why we've trained," Serafima said, her voice steady. She stepped closer to the dragon, brushing a hand over his wing. "He's strong, stable, and capable of far more than you realize. You need to trust him."

Catty swallowed hard, her gaze shifting to the dragon's broad back. He turned his head to look at her, his bright eyes glinting with excitement and mischief.

"Okay, R.I., fine," the girl said, stepping closer, "but if you drop me..."

"Now listen carefully. When you mount, keep your weight centered. Sit between his shoulder blades, not too far back. Lean with him when he turns—it will help keep you balanced."

Catty nodded, her heart hammering in her chest as she placed a hesitant hand on the dragon's side. His scales were warm under her touch, calming her swirling nerves.

"And one more thing," Serafima added. "He'll feel it if you're afraid, and it will unsettle him. Confidence is key."

"Right," Catty said, though her voice wavered. "Confidence."

The dragon rumbled again as if encouraging her and lowered himself slightly, his wings folding close to his body to make mounting easier. Catty took a deep breath, her hands gripping his scales, and then she swung her leg over and settled into place.

The dragon shifted beneath her, adjusting to the added weight, and Catty instinctively grabbed hold of his long horns.

"Relax," Serafima said gently. "Let him feel your trust."

Catty exhaled slowly, loosening her grip just enough to feel the dragon's movements beneath her. His muscular body radiated strength, and the girl let herself believe Serafima's words.

"You've got this," the woman said, stepping back. "And so does he."

The dragon stretched his wings again, a low growl of anticipation rumbling through him. Catty's grip tightened briefly, but she forced herself to relax, her breath steady.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Let's do this."