Captive dragon incident

“I shaw a dragon onshe, you know… only onshe.  I’ve been hoping to find them for four yearsh now, and after all that time… one.

“Jusht a little one, actually; jusht a wyrmling.  Copper.  Travelling carnival had it locked up; godsh know how they managed to catch it.  Those creaturesh are shmart, shmarter than the average human for the shame age, that’sh for sure.  But they had enough shtrongmen and wishardsh to keep it under control; they weren’t foolsh about keeping her shecure.  I musht have stared at that little beauty for nigh five hoursh shtraight; had to keep bribing the ticketman to let me shtay.

“She wash the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen in my life.  Sho, sho perfect…  And yet sho shmall; she wash ash shmall ash I wash.  Her shcalesh…  Not quite ash shiny ash a new penny, but that shame color, that shame gorgeoush red-tan color.

“I wanted to shave her so badly.  I’d whishpered to her all day; probably the firsht wordsh in her own language she’d heard shinshe her mother’sh.  We had it all worked out:  shneak in invishibly, pick her cage lock, turn her invishible too, and shtroll right out.  She hated it there not becaushe she was improshioned, but becaushe she was bored.  Bored out of her shkull.  Day in, day out, the shame cage, the shame show, the shame mindlessh gawkersh, and absholutely nothing to do and no one to talk to.  She desherved better.  I could have given her better.

“Cage wash guarded with an alarm; didn’t have time to pick the lock.  I fought, I fought them all, with everything.  But, not enough arrowsh.  Not enough shpellsh.  Not enough…

“Two monthsh later I heard the carnival had been ambushed on the road; goblinsh.  No shign of the dragon after that.  Sho here’sh the queshtion:  did what I do even matter?  She would have eventually gotten free whether I tried to shave her or not.  But I tried to shave her.  And I think she’ll remember that, wherever she ish…”

{More backstory fluff for my D&D character.}

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