The littlest Dragon

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Ace and Deuce carefully slink past you before you shut the door. “As you can see, Riddle, he’s not a danger to anyone.” You try to smile as innocently as possible. Alright. Thank you!” At least he’s going to try and help. You know Riddle could have decided Tsunotarou was a danger and taken him away. Tsunotarou leaves the tome to come over to your side. You shake your head as you reread your lists. “I seem to be out of a lot of stuff,” you mutter to yourself. I thought we were looking for the weirdo (Y/N) saw. Instead you leave me to do the work.” he grumbles.

Your overgrown lizard,” Ace jabs a finger at Tsunotarou, who is sitting on top of the table, “tried to set me on fire! He tried to murder me!!” Gretchen took such pride in her garden and guarded it so well, that she permitted no one to touch or look or smell for long. She shooed away the birds to their nests and the bees to their hives. She turned over the Canterbury bells and dropped intruding fairies to the ground.

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Once the hens are properly fed, he flies off to take care of Phillis. Despite her initial fear of him, Phillis seems to have gotten used to him. You two follow behind to Phillis's pen. Tsunotarou pats the top of her head while she eats. I have come all the way from the north,” the Littlest Dragon said, “and there are many gardens there, but I have never seen one quite so beautiful. You must be a special one, sweet fairy, to have given the world such a spectacular gift.” You feel Tsunotarou wiggle around in the satchel before poking his head out. “You have to stay hidden,” you whisper, placing a finger over your lips. Anne McCaffrey’s first story was published by Sam Moskowitz in Science Fiction + Magazine and her first novel was published by Ballantine Books in 1967. By the time the three children of her marriage were comfortably in school most of the day, she had already achieved enough success with short stories to devote full time to writing. Her first novel, Restoree, was written as a protest against the absurd and unrealistic portrayals of women in s-f novels in the 50s and early 60s. It is, however, in the handling of broader themes and the worlds of her imagination, particularly the two series The Ship Who Sang and the fourteen novels about the Dragonriders of Pern that Ms. McCaffrey’s talents as a story-teller are best displayed. When they’re gone, you plop down on the couch. Tsunotarou immediately climbs into your lap and makes himself comfortable. “Cursed huh?” You lift his face so you can look into his eyes. “Are you secretly a prince who got cursed by an evil sorcerer and only true love's kiss can break the spell?” you ask with a teasing grin.

Tsunotarou, who perched himself on your shoulder, leans forward watching in rapt interest. “Do you want to try to feed them?” you ask, holding the bag of feed up. To get some protective runes made around the perimeter of your place. Maybe it’ll keep the weirdo you saw out.” There’s a huff and light growl from behind him. “Uh… is he okay?” He inches away from the irritated dragon. Of course!” Ace pulls out a hefty coin purse and lets it fall on the table. “All in a day's work.” He grins smugly with his nose in the air.

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Sitting up, you carefully make your way downstairs. “Maybe something to eat will help,” you mumble. You spot Ace hanging off the couch, so you know who lost the argument. Pretty sure he left already!” They don’t hear you as they race outside still in their sleepwear. Lifting Tsunotarou into your arms, you huff, “You’ve gotten heavier too. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to fit in my satchel now.” He only nuzzles your face with his scaly snout. You return the greeting with a wide smile. “Hey, Sam. Just the usual.” As Sam wraps each glass bottle in brown paper, you mentally do the math of how much you owe. Said redhead suddenly has a keen interest in your hanging herbs. “Tsunotarou isn’t like that,” you argue. “He’s never hurt anyone and he’s been living with me of all people.” The magicless human who would be a prime target for magical creatures.

The second book about the Littlest Dragon who has the biggest and best ideas. Familiar family stories for beginner readers. I mean, I think if that stranger wanted to hurt us, he would've broken down the door. The deadbolt doesn’t do much,” you say while setting down glasses. “I’ll be fine, Deuce, so don’t worry.” Sitting on the arm of the couch, you stroke Tsunotarou’s head. “Are you cursed?” you ask him. His head bobs up and down. “How come you two didn’t notice?” Your question is directed at the two bean spillers.

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Not only is it strange to see a person at this time, but there’s also one other thing making you pause and rethink your plans. The moon hangs large in the sky and bathes the world in an ethereal silvery glow. The stranger stands there, head tilted upward to the sky, completely still.