The little dragon wolfed down his corn snake and licked his snout with a forked tongue.

“Mm, tasty, huh little guy?” I stroked him under his chin. I was guessing it was a boy, but I couldn’t tell yet. I wished Nana was here so I could ask her these questions. The dungeon was too far to walk and I didn’t even know if she was still alive.

The dragon curled up in a ball on an old shirt I had outgrown at the end of winter. It was only mid-spring and already my ankles and wrists were sticking out of my clothes.

I walked in the dusk to the barn, letting the hatchling sleep near the fire.

After Nana and Papa were taken, Mama cried for days, and got sick. She laid in bed until the day they came for her, too. But they couldn’t take her, she was too weak. She died the next day. All her hope was gone. I buried her in the orchard so she could tend the trees.

I planted the garden and crops this year. Uncle Amos and his ox came to help plow.
Only the milk cow was left and six chickens.
Sheriff took the rest for tax.