The little baize picked up both languages incredibly quickly. True, most likely the language itself was inside its inherited knowledge banks, but its growth at using its throat and tongue to make the noises it wanted was tremendous. In the first place, human words coming from a dragon’s mouth wasn’t supposed to be physically possible. Valor had certainly tried. But whether it was some strange mutation, or an esoteric technique that no dragon had ever tried before, or its own unique magic all on its own, Pentwec had very little difficulty with human vowels and consonants, nor with the dragon words that could carry ten times as many concepts in the same amount of time.
Pentwec had also communicated, as soon as she was able to, that she was a girl. Valor and Waver were both quick to accept that, due to their histories.
The little monster herself, at that time, was playing with a set of wooden blocks with letters carved on them, in preparation for learning to read. She was so precocious that it honestly scared the two a little.
“You’re saying people would try to have her killed?” Waver gasped, unintentionally changing his tongue.
Waver groaned. He hated that Valor was right, but then, they often were. Drakes were bred as war beasts, and Valor’s countenance was suitably fierce as a result. They had large, wicked teeth, and their pointy tongue flicked between them like flames at the bars of a cell. But the most fearsome thing about Valor, in Waver’s view, was their mind. They had the cunning and emotional intelligence of a much, much older dragon.
Valor nodded.
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There was a long silence between them. A ways away, they could still hear the clacking of wooden blocks as the little tyke worked at transmogrifying her mystical wisdom into practical knowledge.
At this, the baby dragon sauntered over on her awkward legs.
said Pentwec impatiently.
Pentwec sighed and pursed her toothy lips.
Valor and Waver stared at her.
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As it happened, Beatrice was thrilled at the idea. The baize was over the moon at meeting her daughter and learning how special she was, and apparently the idea of a child of hers attending school filled sated a desire for mischief that she herself would never be able to act on. The two of them got along so well as mother and daughter, despite the lack of imprinting, that Waver could only marvel at the power of scent recognition. In fact, he had been worried about tearing the two of them apart again after they were able to meet. However, Beatrice explained that the other six eggs were already sold, and a new hatchling would just meet the same fate.
Plus, from the perspective of human law, Pentwec already “belonged” to Waver. It was doubtful that the farmer would decide to buy an additional hatchling for mere sentimental reasons.
And so after a little bit of preparation, despite Valor’s misgivings, they carried Waver into Silfmont to go pitch their idea at the schoolhouse. Waver wore wool slacks and a knit coat, and carried the baby Pentwec in a cave made of metal wire. Valor made conversation with her on the way in dragon tongue so she wouldn’t get too bored.
Lately, they had taken to sharing the drake myths and legends they remembered from their family’s oral tradition. It occurred to them that Pentwec might know the veracity or falsehood of some of the stories, but if she did, she wasn’t telling. Even so, she seemed to enjoy it.
The problem would last for all her life, after all, as long as she had a single person to talk to.
Valor continued to tell her stories for the few minutes it took for the three of them to reach the town proper.